


sun comes up (it always does)

by maidenstar



Series: Elevate [2]
Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, Fluff, Long-Distance Relationship, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-30
Updated: 2019-02-27
Packaged: 2019-10-19 14:24:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 39,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17603018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maidenstar/pseuds/maidenstar
Summary: "Waverly thinks and thinks and thinks and all roads lead to one obvious conclusion: she is heart-stoppingly, mind-bogglingly, overwhelmingly in love."The vacation is over and it's time for Waverly and Nicole to face reality a hundred miles apart. But after meeting on their foreign travels, how well can they navigate their new romance away from the Mediterranean beaches and sunshine? With Waverly stuck in the hostile environment of Purgatory, and Nicole busy training to be a cop, where do they go next, and was their love really just a summer romance?[By request, this is a direct follow-up to Elevate, but can easily be read standalone]





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I hope everyone is doing well. Despite saying I might not be able to write as much fic this year, I am back just before January is out with a follow-up piece to one of last year’s offerings. 
> 
> Something I found from a lot of the feedback I got for my ‘they met in a Greek hostel and fell in love’ fic Elevate (https://archiveofourown.org/works/16557629/), was that people were a little dissatisfied with the ending. I got a few messages/comments/etc., basically saying that they wanted more. So, in this case, I have written more!
> 
> I had a looot of headcanons about where our favourite girls would take their relationship, all of them predictably fluffy. So, I just wanted to write a short (by my standards) piece to fill in the gaps for those who wanted to read about it. It is not the only fic I have going on: I have a two-chapter AU to upload soon, plus a canon-adjacent oneshot. Then I will probably hole myself off to work on a longer canon piece alongside my other writing endeavours. 
> 
> I hope you’re prepared for a lot of fluff with this fic, and that you’ll enjoy seeing the actual final conclusion (definitely no more to come after these 4 chapters) of Elevate.

“Hello, you.”

The sound coming through Waverly’s headphones is tinny and slightly out of time with the blurry video.

In short, it is a poor substitute for what Waverly has experienced for weeks on end.

But it is _Nicole_.

It is Nicole in front of Waverly (in a manner of speaking); Nicole beaming like the sun, more or less in real time (despite the obvious lag in the video).

Still, this feels wrong.

“Oh, I hate this,” Waverly says, injecting the right inflection into her voice in a decent helping; added drama to ensure that she sounds appropriately sad. It is true; she _does_ hate this.

At the last moment, she adds in a pout too - just for good measure.

“ _Wow_ ,” Nicole says, huffing a breathy laugh that, in person, had been known to send Waverly’s stomach into somersaults. But she is not here in person now, and everything feels a little less shiny and golden. “I’ll just hang up right now, shall I?”

“Don’t you dare,” Waverly says quickly, “it’s bad enough you not being here next to me. _That_ ’s what I hate.”

“I know, I know. Tell me about it,” Nicole says with a groan. “It feels weird as hell being here alone.”

“Is it okay?” Waverly asks, eyes leaving Nicole for the first time. “Your apartment?”

She looks to the edges of the screen, trying to pick out any sign of Nicole’s new accommodation from the slim frame around Nicole’s face. Nicole had applied to all the police colleges she could and, of the ones that accepted her application (there were a lot), she had simply picked the course that looked best. She was not tied to a place because she and her family were on such uneasy terms - the flimsy connection barely holding at all, according to Nicole. She had never been to the city before, and had enlisted Waverly and Wynonna’s help in picking out a neighbourhood. They had sifted through short-contract apartments together (because Nicole could not view the place first) and Waverly had been dimly worried that she was one-third responsible for picking out somewhere completely grotty.

Waverly wishes she could be half so bold as Nicole had been - moving to a place she had never been before just to start school. Nicole was brave and wide-eyed; finding joy and adventure in everything.

It was stupid and unexpectedly painful, how much Waverly missed her already.

Much to Waverly’s relief, Nicole nods.

“It’s good,” she says, “thankfully it’s furnished but I’m so tired I think I’d have slept on the floor or in the bathtub anyway. It’ll be weird being in my own apartment again. I was in that dorm for ages, and then with you last night.”

It feels inexplicably odd, the idea that although the timezones made it all a bit more complicated, for all intents and purposes they had been together in that airport hotel last night. That was, at least, how it felt.  

“It feels weird, being back at home,” Waverly admits quietly, checking for the umpteenth time that her bedroom door is firmly shut. “Like, everything is the same. The _exact_ same. Purgatory hasn’t changed in a bazillion years, so it shouldn’t surprise me that nothing remotely interested happened in a couple of months. But I’ve come home and it feels like things _shouldn’t_ be the same.” She pauses, shaking her head at herself. “That probably doesn’t even make sense.”

“Of course it makes sense Waverly. You’ve experienced so much new stuff; going back to the old is always a transition.”

“Right. I forget you’ve done this before.”

“Well it hasn’t made today any easier, put it that way. I feel completely out of sorts. I - God, Waverly I know this is stupid because I saw you hours ago but…” Nicole pauses, her smile bashful and beautiful in equal measure. “I miss you already. I know that’s crazy, but it’s how I feel.”

After that first kiss in Sounio, sun-warm and bathed in ocean magic, they had rarely parted for more than a waking hour or two. To be apart now, even just for the space of time it had taken Waverly to ride home and be all-but wrestled to the living room by Gus and Curtis to speak and catch up, was unspeakably strange and unpleasant.

Unable to keep herself from contact with Nicole, the two of them had texted for the entire duration of Waverly’s bus ride, until Waverly wore her battery down to nothing and all they could do was make a last-gasp promise of a video call later that afternoon.

She had itched for her phone while it was dead and useless to her, but had ultimately put it to one side the moment Gus and Curtis’ excited, beaming faces became visible at the bus stop. They had been delighted to see her - more so than Waverly had been expecting, and she wonders if perhaps she had underestimated how much her aunt in particular had mourned her presence over the summer.

Gus speaks almost nonstop as Curtis drives them back to the McCready homestead, filling her in on all the minutiae of life in Purgatory. Waverly realises for the first time that she has not missed any of it, not the small-town gossip or the minor inconveniences that shift from molehills to mountains under the gaze of those so isolated that any news is big news.

When they are home, Gus had prodded Waverly to the couch and bustled off to make tea, while Curtis settled into his usual armchair with a wide, wide smile on his face.

“We’re so proud of you angel - so happy you’ve had this adventure - but we’ve missed you too. We’ve missed your smiling face every day.”

Gus had corroborated this upon her return, setting down a cup of tea and a small plate of the only vegan cookies that Purgatory’s general store sold. Waverly had helped herself, but in truth she was not hungry. Her body and rhythms were out of sync after the long flight, and she felt drained in spirit as much as in sinew. She had missed her family dearly while she was away, and while her heart felt full to have them close again - perching on the edges of their seats and demanding tale after tale, photo after photo, from Waverly - it was a struggle too, to put on a brave face.

In truth, nothing has ever felt so bittersweet as this. Never had she grieved the end of anything so much as she grieves the end of her time with Wynonna and Nicole. Never had the distance from Wynonna felt so acute, never had she ached at her sister’s absence as she does now.

Always her best friend even when things were bad, Wynonna had, perhaps unknowingly, carried a piece of Waverly’s soul with her on her travels. Missing her before they had reconnected so deeply was bad enough. But now they were closer than ever. Now, there was Nicole too. Nicole, who had never asked anything of Waverly but had been given a part of Waverly’s soul too. Nicole, who would probably hold it dear like a beautiful trinket; wrapped in tissue and ensconced in a box of jewels and other such treasures.

It felt overwhelming and, after a long while swapping stories with her aunt and uncle, Waverly is quietly relieved when Gus rises and says that she needs to check on the dinner. She has clearly made an effort for Waverly’s return, and this only makes Waverly feel more guilty that she cannot seem to switch on her usual cheer tonight.

She suspects that Gus and Curtis understand that she is tired and overwrought, because neither seems at all put out when she ventures to excuse herself briefly, citing a burning (and genuine) desire to shower and change into some clean pyjamas.

She does not mention that she has also set a time to call Nicole. She does not allude to any particular closeness with Nicole at all.

It feels wrong, keeping this from her family. It felt a disservice to them and to Nicole, but Waverly’s throat had simply seized up and her stomach had broiled like a thunderstorm every time she had even considered telling Gus and Curtis the truth about Nicole.

She had shown them a few photos of her, included her in a brief summary of people she and Wynonna had met at the hostel. She had skipped over any photos that might have clued her family into the reality of the relationship, and had deemed only pictures in which she is with both Nicole and Wynonna as safe fare.

She feels marginally better after a warm shower, and then improves further when finally, _finally_ , she can begin charging her phone and give Nicole the go-ahead to make the call.

“I miss you,” Nicole repeats, barely five minutes into the conversation. “I’m sorry if that’s full on.”

“I didn’t expect it,” Waverly says, her throat tight with the burn of tears that come to her entirely unexpectedly. “Shit, Nicole. I knew it would be bad but I didn’t know it would be _this_ bad.”

“Hey,” Nicole says, appearing to lurch forward on camera, as if she might reach across the distance and break free of the glass screen to catch the tears threatening at Waverly’s eyes.

She does not even know why she is crying. Yes, this is hard. Yes, it sucks. But it is like this well of emotion is another beast entirely, a spectre of sadness simply because it is _all_ over. The anticipation of the months before her flight out; the simmering cauldron of her growing crush and desire; the adventures; the proximity to Wynonna and Nicole - all of it is over.

“Sorry,” Waverly says with a frustrated, watery laugh. She paws at her eyes before the tears have time to take hold and, God forbid, fall. “Sorry, you must think I’m completely stupid.”

“I could never think that,” Nicole says quickly, looking almost horrified at the thought. “I just wish I could do something. I don’t want you to be sad.”

“It’s fine,” Waverly says, meaning it. “I’ll be fine, I know I will. It just feels weird, being back in this place. It’s stifling, like no matter how much growth people from here make, all roads still lead back to Purgatory. I’d forgotten how far away it is from everything else - it makes me feel really far from you.”

“I know Waves, I know,” Nicole says, voice soft and soothing. “But we’re so much closer than we thought we’d be, and school will start up soon. You’ll be in the city before you know it. And I bet your aunt and uncle must have missed you.”

She changes the subject so deftly that Waverly almost misses it. When she sees the truth of it, however, she flashes Nicole a little look that says _I know what you’re doing_ . Through the phone, Nicole is the picture of innocence and Waverly would do anything, _anything_ , to kiss her right now.

“I think they did, yeah,” Waverly says anyway, “possibly more than I realised. My aunt has cooked a huge welcome meal and I think my uncle wants us to watch a movie together later. Something that came out in the summer probably, but I have no idea what it is.”

She does not mention whether she told them about Nicole, but it is evident that Nicole is not fishing for that kind of information. Waverly thinks they could be together for a long while yet before Nicole even broached the conversation. She is patient like that, patient in a way Waverly has never been, and she deserves a hundred times more than someone who is too scared to tell their family that she is dating a woman.

At least, that is what Waverly assumes this thing between them is. They never did have that conversation about being each other’s girlfriend in any official sense.

“I’m glad,” Nicole says, wide smile illustrating the truth of the sentiment. “That will give you something to focus on tonight and maybe some sleep will help us both. What’s on the cards for tomorrow?”

“Nothing much. Boring stuff: laundry, maybe some grocery and toiletry shopping,” Waverly says, shifting on her bed and laying down on her side. The new angle gives Nicole a far less flattering view, but Waverly cannot bring herself to care. She just misses the easy, cosy evenings when they curled together on Waverly’s top bunk mattress, comfortable in their pyjamas as they talked and talked before Wynonna returned from work. They covered every base on those nights; they traversed their pasts together, and they mapped out every permutation of the future they could think of. They talked about a dreamy, aspirational world where Nicole was qualified and Waverly had her doctorate. They listed the places they wanted to see and the experiences they longed to curate. Never did they explicitly say that they would do these things together, but the inference was always heavy in the air between them.

Girlfriend labels (or otherwise) aside, Waverly feels at ease knowing that Nicole is thinking ahead, even if it is only to Waverly’s first trip to the city as a PhD student. It is comforting to see that this is real for Nicole too. She thinks it would be even harder if she did not have at least some assurances that she is not the only one with an ache beneath her fingertips, desperate as she is to flex her fingers and feel Nicole’s soft flesh beneath them in a warm embrace.

“Well for what it’s worth it’ll be the same for me,” Nicole says, gaze drifting slightly as she evidently thinks to the days ahead. “I’ve got to make this place more like home, and I need to do so much laundry. Then I need to get more stuff out of storage because I only got my laptop and bedding today, plus actually buy some food. So much fun stuff.”

“It makes Greece look boring really.”

“A _total_ drag.”

They let the little joke settle between them, but before Waverly can respond Gus’ voice travels upwards from the kitchen, calling Waverly down for dinner.

“Your aunt?” Nicole asks and Waverly nods.

“I don’t even have the heart to tell her I’m not hungry. I think I’m too sad and out of sorts to be hungry. Plus, I don’t really want to hang up.”

“It’s fine baby, you go be with your family. I’ll text you later yeah?” Nicole says softly. “Let you know when I’m going to bed?”

“Yes, please,” Waverly replies, feeling another little ripple of sadness emanate through her, like her chest is a pool and someone keeps dropping stones. Every night in Greece they had parted at one of their rooms with a kiss and, afterwards, Nicole had always sent a final text before they dropped off to sleep. Not caring that she sounds like a heroine from a cheesy romance novel, Waverly adds, “I wish I could kiss you goodnight.”

Nicole pulls a sad expression before sweetly blowing her kiss. Waverly mimes catching it.

A silence seems to ring around the room when Nicole ends the call, and Waverly sits and stares at the dark mirror of her phone screen for a minute before heading back downstairs.

  
  
  
  
  


Waverly manages not to check her phone all throughout dinner but she thinks nonstop of doing so, and finds as a result that she almost wants to give her own shoulders a good shake. She truly _has_ missed Gus and Curtis, and she is happy to be with them again. They make - have always made - her feel safe and loved. They are a proper family; parents from whom she was never born, but who sculpted her anyway, giving her a little of their own essences as she grew.

She does not want to be ungrateful for the love they give her and she never, ever wants to take it for granted. She would bet a hefty sum that neither noticed that she was wistful and longing as she sat and ate and chatted with them, but even so it felt like something of a betrayal to be so deeply craving Nicole’s company even as she enjoyed her evening with her family.

In all her life, Waverly has never been so smitten with anyone. She had never, ever been so besotted that a separation felt like this.

She had only ever really dated Champ before now, and their relationship was the kind that left her missing his love, even when he was right there with her. Something had always been absent between them, even when they were in the same room.

So, Waverly risks checking her phone as Gus insists that she is exempt from washing up duty _Just This Once_ , and Curtis implores her to set the DVD player up because, even with his love of old Western movies, he still could not use what he called ‘that confounded machine’.

Once sat down in the living room with the DVD whirring around on pause, Waverly finally checks her messages and finds a photograph waiting for her. Nicole is the subject, clutching a takeout pizza box close and looking deliberately excited. Seeing Waverly online, Nicole sends a follow-up picture of the (enormous) pizza itself, and then about half an hour later a final image of an empty box arrives. In this latter, Nicole is once again in frame, looking entirely too pleased about her heroic conquest.

When Curtis pauses the movie halfway through, stating that he needs snacks as Gus rolls her eyes and shouts over his shoulder about his diabetes, Waverly checks her phone again. Another picture from Nicole - her laptop screen shining bright in a darkened room - with the caption ‘ _Fighting jetlag. Need! Sleep!_ ”.

Over the course of the evening, Nicole’s messages become more candid as, presumably, she grows more tired.

 _‘Wish we were watching movies in bed together’_ comes the next one, followed by, ‘ _so!! tired!! but need to fight it. Please come over and hold my hand and keep me awake_.’

The texts both ease and exacerbate the balloon in Waverly’s chest. Nicole’s messages hurt in some strange way, because Waverly hates the idea that she feels just as sad. But the texts make Waverly smile too, because Nicole is thinking of her. Nicole wants her _there_. Nicole is texting her because she misses her, and she wants Waverly to know the truth of it all.

Waverly replies just as honestly at each turn, and by the time Curtis’ movie is over and Waverly has excused herself to bed, Nicole already seems to be tucked up and waiting.

‘ _Goodnight, I miss you,_ ’ comes the expected message, with a string of hearts and kisses. Waverly smiles sadly as she reads it and sends a near-identical reply. She slumps against her pillows, finding comfort at least in the feel of her own sheets and blankets; it seems to be the only familiar thing that does not feel entirely jarring and uncomfortable. Sad as she is, she is unsurprised to find that sleep comes easily and she drifts quickly, fancying that if she just closes her eyes and lets the eerie silence of the Purgatory night settle in the room, she might hear Nicole's soft breathing through the dark, coming from nearly a hundred miles away.

  


 

* * *

 

  


Purgatory is like ice, frozen and unyielding except for the times when it might perhaps drift along in the currents of other, warmer waters. Usually, they only feel the ripple of events somewhere much further away, and it takes a real and substantial thaw to shift the little town’s form to something new. Then, even when this happens, winter comes again eventually and Purgatory just turns back to ice and stone. The town lays and waits for years for a new big catalyst, and its inhabitants wait with it.

Evidently, there had been no such change over the summer.

As she ventures into town late the next morning, Waverly is half-comforted and half-dismayed to see that this area has not changed either.

In truth, she does not really know what she had been expecting, or what changes could possibly have occurred between Mrs Marin's little coffee shop and the ever-consistent front façade of Shorty’s bar.

Whatever _could_ have happened, evidently it had not - because Waverly finds the same stores and establishments with the same wares on offer. The same people prop up tables in the diner as she and Gus stop off for breakfast on their way into town, and the same shadows lurk around the miniature high street, waiting sadly for Shorty’s to open and serve them the first drinks of the day. Waverly knows from past precedent that these drinks will be the first of many.

There wasn't a lot of work here, and evidently that hadn't changed either. This was perhaps the part that made Waverly most sad. Naming the town Purgatory had always seemed almost distastefully apt, because this was how so many of the people here lived their lives; always, they were waiting. Waverly could see now that she had fallen foul of this complacency too - if only to a degree. Perhaps then, this is what is so bizarre about coming home now; realising that she is not content to wait and wonder what might come into town on the next cross-country coach.

She texts Wynonna something to this effect, knowing full well that her sister will now be at work in the tacky, mishmash sports bar that Waverly had rolled her eyes at and regarded with disdain upon her first visit. Now, she would give her left arm to be there again.

She texts Nicole, too. A photo of the empty street and the tagline ‘ _almost as busy as Athens_ ’.

This time, Gus notes Waverly’s sharp concentration on her phone.

“Texting people from your holiday?” she asks, nothing in her voice to suggest that this question has any further depth to it. All the same, Waverly feels a jolt, like a snow globe that has been shaken. She can only pray her aunt either did not see the messages above (the ones with all the hearts and kisses and goodness knows what else), or she does not read anything into them. Her aunt is perceptive, but Waverly is not entirely sure she really has a solid grasp of emojis. Still, the ones she and Nicole were using were not subtle.

“Yeah,” Waverly says, trying to sound as disinterested as possible. “Some of them were pretty fascinated with Purgatory, since it’s so small.”

“City kids?” Gus asks.

Waverly nods, not wanting to give Gus all of Nicole’s family history - all of the moving around and music festivals dressed up as family holidays. Nicole is used to small, rural places - that is perhaps why Purgatory had fascinated her so much - but her aunt does not need to know that. After all, even if Waverly had had the guts to tell her family about Nicole, that was not her information to give out. Instead she says only,

“Kind of.”

“Well then, a place like this is bound to seem strange to them. What have they got to say?”

Waverly checks her phone. Nicole is replying in multiple messages, little dots present on the screen.

‘ _You’re definitely psychic_ , _’_ comes the first response. It is followed by: ‘ _literally woke up as you were messaging.'_

She sends a few laughing faces in response to Waverly’s little quip at how busy Purgatory is. Then, Nicole says,

‘ _Wow! Absolutely rammed!! Is that really the main street?!_ ’

‘ _Wouldn’t that make you the psychic one, since you woke up right as I was contacting you? And also yes_ , _that’s as good as it gets_ ,’ Waverly says to Nicole, sending a few unimpressed faces before turning to Gus.

“They can’t believe it’s our main street.”

Gus chuckles. “I’m not surprised.”

They duck into the little drugstore by unspoken consent, Waverly having already told her aunt what she needs to buy. She had endeavoured to travel back with as few toiletries as possible - just to make getting through security less of a hassle.

In the meantime, Nicole gets back to her.

‘ _Aw. Guess you’ll just HAVE to come to the city_ ,’ she says, making Waverly smile. _‘Isolation is all well and good, but I prefer my seclusion on a beach in Sounio_ ’. She adds in a few suggestive emojis for good measure at the mention of their first kiss, and Waverly makes sure to shield her phone from Gus, who is very obviously watching Waverly as she grins down at her phone.

“Fascinatingly small town aside, this isn’t phone time,” she says, but there is no real sternness to her tone. All the same, Waverly knows she is being rude. Flashing Gus a quick look of apology, Waverly cannot stop herself sending a final reply.

If Nicole is put out when Waverly says she has to go for a little while, there is no indication of it down the phone. She sends a sweet goodbye text, and asks if they can speak properly later.

Waverly cannot accept quickly enough, before finally stuffing her phone into her back pocket.

Gus gives her a little smile, her expression perhaps slightly curious around the edges. As Waverly scans the shampoo aisle and feigns a great deal of concentration by pretending to search for her brand, she wonders how long she can reasonably keep this up. It will be obvious if she is now always glued to her phone, especially if even the slightest moment of flirtation from Nicole is going to have her smiling like a star-crossed lover which, if this morning’s interaction was anything to go by, was precisely the case.

Wynonna was right. Her aunt and uncle probably wouldn’t care in the slightest that Waverly is bi, especially once they got to know Nicole herself. Waverly had a sneaking suspicion that both Gus and Curtis would adore her, but arguably Waverly was a bit biased.

 _But_ , a little voice in Waverly’s head asks, _what if they hate you? What if it ruins everything? What if they never want to speak to you again?_

This is not the first time Waverly has had this mental back and forth. The rational part of her always answers this question by stating that, if anyone has a problem with all of this, then it is their loss. Nicole was more than worth a small amount of crap from the ignorant townsfolk here.

But Gus and Curtis were different. They were her family. Their opinion _mattered_ , just as Wynonna’s had.

Purgatory was small and once any small slice of information got out, it spread like a cold in wintertime. Any slight social media slip up and it would be everywhere - all of Gus and Curtis’ friends would know, and most would not be favourable or kind. Waverly knows this already. She had heard the way they talk about openly gay public figures or the few out townsfolk who, more often than not, moved away from Purgatory as soon as they could.

Would it shame or embarrass her aunt and uncle when it was Waverly the Purgatory natives were whispering about?

Things were bad enough as it was, just because of the break up - and that was ages ago.

In fact, for the last year - since Waverly had dumped Champ - half of the men here had tried something on with her, whether they were her age or not. It was like they all had some kind of phone alert for when one of the few girls in the town became single, and they all convened to pre-plan their assault tactics.

In addition, most of the girls in her grade had clearly shared their opinions behind Waverly’s back. At the start, they seemed to think that she would be back with Champ within a month or two, and even after over a year this still appeared to be the prevailing assumption. Being single in Purgatory was, it would appear, a fate worse than death. And according to the girls from her grade, it was even worse in this situation.

It was not just that Waverly was single within a small dating pool. Apparently, it was that she was an Earp too.

Stephanie Jones had said exactly this during a girls’ night not long after the break up.

“Are you sure you’re gonna stay broken up?” she had asked, looking both sceptical and scheming all at once. “It’s just that - Champ liked you.”

It had taken all of Waverly’s considerable willpower to bite her tongue and not state that, as with most things in life, Steph had absolutely no idea what she was talking about. Instead, Waverly had simply replied that perhaps Champ did like her, but she did not like him so it wasn’t fair to keep dating. In truth, people had known what Champ was like; they had known much of it long before Waverly herself. If she was being honest, that was what always hurt the most around here: that your neighbours talked but never to your face.

Either way, she wasn’t about to read out Champ’s wrongs and defend herself. There was no need to justify her decision to anyone. She did not have to stick with someone she did not love, no matter how foreign a concept that was around here.

Half the locals knew about Champ’s infidelity, about his emotional absenteeism. But still people thought she should stand by him. That was just how it worked around here. A few lucky townsfolk, like Gus and Curtis, really did find a soulmate for life. The rest stuck with their old high school partners out of loyalty or desperation or maybe even blind faith that a spark would take hold eventually. Some divorced but many simply did not bother. Purgatory did not change, so sometimes there was little point in people changing.

The men simply proceeded to spend more time drinking with other married men while their wives congregated in someone’s living room for girls’ nights (much like the one in which Stephanie Jones decided to swing a verbal blow at Waverly). Everyone pretended it was okay. But for Waverly it was not okay.

Perhaps it had been her degree, perhaps she had spent enough time with people from other places to snap herself out of whatever spell held Purgatory natives captive all their lives. But there was a time when Waverly had simply wanted change, no matter how resistant others were to it.

“I mean, it’s up to you,” Steph had added, sounding unconvinced. “It’s just that there’s not a lot of people here, hardly any single guys, and they all know what the Earps are like.”

There had been something of a falling out after that, and things had never really knitted themselves back together again.

In fact, Waverly only saw the likes of Steph in passing, and often quite against her volition. It is no different on that first morning back in Purgatory, when she bumps into Stephanie at the cash registers in the drugstore. Worst of all, she is with a small group of people - Champ amongst them.

Waverly smiles, feeling how the gesture is thin and ill at ease on her face. Chrissy Nedley is the only one with whom Waverly has remained close, and she is the only one who seems genuinely happy to have bumped into her.

The others plaster fake, overwide grins on as Chrissy steps forward for a tight, lingering hug.

“You’re back!” she declares, somewhat unnecessarily. “I bet it sucks, but I’ve missed seeing you, so _I’m_ happy you’re here.”

Waverly laughs. She and Chrissy have always understood each other. It was never easy, fitting in as an Earp, but Chrissy had almost as tough a time of it as a Deputy’s daughter.

“It’s good to see everyone,” Waverly says, aiming to be diplomatic regarding her feelings at having left Greece. At any rate, it is _not_ good to see everyone. Just Gus, Curtis, and now Chrissy. “I missed you.”

“I followed all your adventures,” Chrissy says, gesturing proudly to the phone in her hand to indicate that she meant Instagram and Facebook. “And I definitely wasn’t jealous at _all_. Especially not of the beaches - they looked terrible.”

Waverly laughs again. Chrissy had been so excited when Waverly told her the news, and the two had batted about the idea of Chrissy tagging along for a week or two. In the end, however, money (or a lack thereof) had made the decision and Chrissy had been forced to stay at home. They could agree, at least, that they would make it on a beach vacation together one day.  

“It was pretty crazy to actually be there,” Waverly says evasively, aware of all eyes on her.

Chrissy seems to pick up on the mood. “Good for you Waves.”

She says this so genuinely and with so much happiness written on her face that Waverly feels her heart swell with affection for her best, and only, schoolfriend. That is always how it had been with them; no competitions.

“Yeah, good for you.” This from Stephanie, who does not look or sound half so pleased for Waverly. “It was such a long and _expensive_ trip.”

They have not been close in years, so it should not matter to her what Waverly did, but that was evidently not the case.

There were so many rules in small towns; so many conventions to follow that would surely baffle half the newcomers that stopped by (not, of course, that Purgatory ever had many of those).

Everyone stuck to their place, and even craning upwards slightly for something more - or arguably just something _different_ \- was tantamount to having ideas above your station.

With her degrees (she was one of the only kids in her grade to go onto further study) alone, it was easy for Waverly’s peers to accuse her of thinking rather highly of herself. With a long and somewhat costly trip to Europe under her belt, Waverly knows the easiest charge for Stephanie Jones to level behind Waverly’s back was that she thought she was too good for the town and its other residents.

They said it about people who left, too. People like Robin Jett, who had been bullied so mercilessly for being gay that he had been across the boundary almost as soon as his graduation cap was on the ground.

Waverly does not much care what Steph or the others think or say. Once upon a time, it might have bothered her, but now it is only an inconvenience that she has to bump into them at all.

“You were there so long,” Sonja adds, “I’m surprised you didn’t come home with a Greek man.”

At this, Champ visibly stiffens and Waverly wants to wince. She hopes this does not inspire a fresh round of drunken ‘take me back’ texts. The last batch had been tragic enough.

For some absurd reason, the mention of a non-existent Greek beau makes Waverly falter, probably because she is thinking of the real person she almost, _almost_ came home with.

Her reaction generates quite the response; a fair number of false laughs and squeals and declarations of _oh she_ did _meet someone_!

Waverly bats away their teasing, which was not as friendly as they would have had it appear, and ignores the thunderous look on Champ’s face. Instead, she excuses herself to pay for her vegan shampoo, which she rather uncharitably blames for having had to bump into her old friends in the first place, and then uses Gus as a further excuse to leave the shop.

She ignores the sideways glance Gus casts at her (in fairness, it is probably more to do with how the others had behaved towards her), but her heart does not stop hammering in her chest until long after they arrive at Shorty’s bar. _Would Gus too think that Waverly had met someone in Greece?_

  
  
  
  
  


“So do I have to fight him?” Nicole jokes down the phone, sipping from a mug of coffee. “Because I gotta warn you Waves, I’m more of a lover than a fighter.”

Waverly quirks an eyebrow, not entirely sure to what degree Nicole intended that as an innuendo or joke. She elects to ignore the comment entirely, already aware that Nicole is indeed quite the lover and completely certain too - albeit without any evidence - that she could be a sheer force of nature if pushed too far.

“No,” Waverly says, rolling her eyes, “I don’t want you to fight my doofus of an ex-boyfriend. In fact I hope you never meet him. It’ll only be embarrassing for me. Well, it would be embarrassing for him too if you fought, because you’d win after like, one punch.”

Skipping over the question of a hypothetical fight, Nicole flashes her a confused look. “Embarrassing for you how?”

“Well, let’s just say my taste in partners wasn’t always quite so impeccable as it is now.”

Nicole snorts.

“You know, just for those smooth moves I’m going to spare you all further questioning.”

“How gracious,” Waverly quips, pausing as a set of footsteps pass by the back room of the bar. She is meant to be helping Gus in Shorty’s because her bank account will not start magically filling itself up again of its own accord, but it is dead out there and, well, Nicole had texted. With little else to report upon, Waverly had wasted no time in filling her in on the only events of the day thus far.

“Honestly though, I don’t care that you dated - what was it - a doofus?” Nicole says, still teasing as she bites her cheek against a playful smile.

“Shut up, I couldn’t think of anything better.”

“Asshole?” Nicole suggests. “Fuckboy? Douchebag? Assclown?”

“There’s a lot of asses going on there,” Waverly says, interrupting before Nicole could prove her point further. So Waverly didn’t always come up with the best insults when pressed, so what? ‘Shit ticket’ was practically a go-to joke in the Earp-McCready household.

“What can I say?” Nicole replies with a shrug and then does not elucidate further.

“Well enough about me, what about your day?”

“Nothing special,” Nicole says, before adding, “until now, obviously.”

Waverly feels herself grinning, lopsided and full of joy. “Good one.”

“Thank you, I try. But anyway, I got the rest of my stuff out of storage. There’s not much, just a few things I thought it was pointless to throw away and waste. Kitchen stuff and a few clothes mainly. So that’s all packed away and I’ll make an IKEA trip tomorrow because I start at the Academy day after.”

“Did you buy food?” Waverly asks pointedly.

“Yes _mom_ I bought food,” Nicole says, hamming up her response.

Waverly smirks, making the obvious joke. “You know it’s another word that’s meant to be sexy right? Not mom?”

“Let’s just assume I don’t want to use either of those words to be sexy and I think we’ll be good.”

“Yeah, fair call,” Waverly says before changing the subject. “And are you all ready? For the day after tomorrow, I mean?”

Nicole, who had talked at length about her aspirations and why she wanted to be a cop, has said very little on the subject of actually starting at the Academy.

Waverly suspects that this is because Nicole is nervous, but has not really known Nicole long enough yet to know what she needs to help her cope with any such nerves.

“I think so, I’m pretty sure everything is in place,” Nicole says evasively before Waverly all but sees a barrier come down, as if consciously done on Nicole’s part. “Shitting bricks, obviously. But I think that’ll get better once I know what I’ve let myself in for.”

Waverly gives her a small smile. “It’s normal to be nervous. You’re gonna be amazing Nicole, I know it. But I’m here no matter what happens.”

“Thanks Waves. And sorry. It’s been a while since I’ve really had anyone to open up to, and I wasn’t the best to begin with. I’ll work on it.”

“It’s okay. I just want to know that you feel you can talk to me.”

“I do,” Nicole says quickly and Waverly can see how much she means it.

“And I just don’t know what you need yet. You know, in situations like this.”

“Just this,” Nicole replies after a pause, evidently meaning the conversation and the connection between them. “I just need you baby.”

  


 

* * *

 

  
  


For the next few weeks, Waverly and Nicole conduct all communication through their phones.

It sucks, but it is what it is. At least, this is Nicole’s take on the matter.

They talk daily, which was not necessarily a spoken intention but it simply works out that way. Waverly had wondered initially if that would be the case. She had not really known how seriously they would approach things between them, but if the daily contact was anything to go by then they were in this together on a pretty committed level.

At the very least, Waverly wants to stay updated on Nicole’s training, and she wants Nicole to know that she is invested in this. The Academy is important to Nicole and Waverly wants to be supportive.

For the first few days Nicole says only that her training is fine and offers a few sparse details, but after a week she opens up more. Waverly understands that Nicole is simply not in the habit of sharing these things at length - even in Greece she had been the one to ask questions and listen first, then offer information second.

It makes Waverly’s heart ache a little, thinking that Nicole had forgotten - or indeed, never fully learned - how to give personal details because there had been so few people around to listen.

But Nicole tries at this, and they both try at the relationship and,  _thank God_ , it seems to work.

Then, a little over two weeks after Waverly’s return, it happens. The email pings up on her phone: _Your university induction_.

With her heart in her mouth, Waverly realises that it is finally time to book her bus into the city.

A few times, she had contemplated just going into the city with no real reason except to visit Nicole. It was clear from a few little hints that Nicole wanted her to. But it would definitely arouse suspicion, because she had always complained about the four hour round trip on the bus, and her aunt and uncle would want to know what had changed so suddenly.

Still, Waverly had been a complete chicken about talking to her family, and Nicole had remained almost painfully understanding.

Besides, Gus had signed her up for every shift Shorty had to offer, and the only free time Waverly seemed to have was the moments she happily gave over to calling Nicole.

Almost every call, Waverly would apologise that their relationship was still a secret and Nicole would always shake her head and refuse the apology.

“The induction is next Monday,” Waverly says on the day the email comes through, requesting that she attend for an entirely unnecessary orientation (she had studied at the same university for years) and a brief meeting with the professor supervising her thesis. “I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to come by. It’s because - well, you know why. And I’m sorry about that, too.”

“ _Waves_ ,” Nicole says, carrying her phone with her as she treks around a modestly-sized kitchen and makes herself some dinner. Her hours at the Academy were mostly the same for the first few semesters - very little overnight or weekend work - but they were still long and arduous. Tasks like cooking had to be done whenever possible and, in truth, Waverly was happy that Nicole was taking care of herself. She had already admitted that things like food and sleep tended to fall by the wayside for her when she was busy.

“I know we’ve like, backed ourselves into these corners where we’re trying to show we’re serious by apologising for every little thing,” Nicole goes on, “but I really don’t want you to feel you have to apologise for this. My folks found out before I was ready - it _sucks_. It was outside of my control, but still.”

Waverly knows that Nicole’s mom had walked in on her kissing her high school girlfriend when Nicole was just a teenager. Her parents always denied that they had an issue with their daughter being a lesbian, but in truth the relationship was already on thin ice. It had seemed to Nicole to be the final nail in the coffin, and things slipped to nothing as Nicole went to college as the first step to pursuing a career as a cop.

“It just makes me think that you both deserve better. My family deserve a niece who doesn’t lie to them, even if it’s by omission, and you deserve someone who doesn’t hide away.”

“We’re _not_ hiding away Waverly, that’s not how I see it. And believe me, it wouldn’t make me feel particularly good to know that you came out before you were ready, just because you felt like it was something you had to do for me. If your aunt and uncle love you - which I know they do - then they won’t want that on them either. It’s not about anyone but you, honestly babe.”

Waverly opens her mouth to reply, but then snaps it shut again. She had never thought of it like that, about the responsibility she would be putting on hers and everyone else’s shoulders if she said something before she was ready to cope with the repercussions. Nicole is being unbelievably sweet and patient, and Waverly knows it is completely selfless but it mustn’t be nice either, worrying that Waverly is upsetting herself on Nicole’s behalf.

If Nicole has a problem, Waverly supposes she will just have to trust her to say so. The idea puts her at ease somewhat.

But then again, Waverly already suspects that Nicole is the kind of person to bottle her own feelings for the benefit of others…

“I’ll promise to stop apologising if you’ll promise me something in return?”

“What’s that?” Nicole asks, tone playful as she picks up on the positive shift in Waverly’s mood.

“If at any point it starts to bother you, you’ll tell me. _Right away_. I know you keep stuff close and you’re worried about this being my thing to dictate, but it doesn’t mean stuff isn’t allowed to bother you.”

Nicole chews this over for a moment. “Waves, I - ”

“ _Please_ Nicole.”

“Okay, okay,” Nicole says, holding up both hands, one of which is clutching onto a wooden spoon as she cooks. “I promise. I really really do promise.”

“Good,” Waverly replies, smiling. “I promise too.”

There is a lull in conversation, during which time Nicole stirs at the pot on the hob. After a moment she chuckles to herself quite without any further context.

“What?” Waverly asks, grinning. Nicole’s mood is infectious.

“Nothing just - get us, being all mature and couple-y and stuff.”

Waverly feels her pulse quicken. It is the first time either of them has explicitly said the word ‘couple’ in reference to their relationship. She has wanted this conversation since arriving home - since before that, really - but she had thought it might have been in poor taste to ask Nicole to confirm whether they are Official Girlfriends when Waverly is keeping things a secret. But Nicole doesn’t care about that, Waverly really and truly believes that Nicole doesn’t mind.

“You mean that in a good way, right?”

Nicole pauses in stirring, sends a momentary glance towards her phone before resuming her efforts.

“The best way,” she says to the saucepan, suddenly sounding unsure. “I think.”  

“You think?”

“I mean - did I say the wrong thing? About being a couple...”

Waverly can feel the situation slipping in the wrong direction and fumbles for the solution. She finds it, but her delivery leaves a lot to be desired.

“No, it’s just - we’ve just never discussed it and I sort of never know what we are, if we’re you know -” she blurts out, louder and faster than intended. “Girlfriends. Or whatever.”

She does not say more than that before she manages to shut herself up. Just a few garbled words in an almost nonsensical formation; it must, she thinks, be the worst way anyone has ever asked someone to officially be their girlfriend.

“Huh,” Nicole says, sounding as though she has just realised this properly. “I guess we didn’t, no.”

Waverly takes a breath. “Are we? I mean do you want to be my uh, my girlfriend?”

Internally, she cringes at the pause before the critical word, wishing she could have handled this a hundred times better.

Slowly, Nicole removes her cooking from the stove and sets the spoon down. It is clear this is a conversation she wants to have, and that she is taking it seriously.

“I’m sorry,” she says quietly, looking thoughtful as she picks her phone up in an attempt to talk properly, even with all the distance between them. At these words, Waverly’s heart seems to stop, but then Nicole carries on speaking. “I’m sorry if this is something you’ve worried about, it felt so natural to me to - I mean, okay, not to assume anything necessarily. I wasn’t assuming we were anything. It didn’t even occur to me that we weren’t...that we hadn’t…” Nicole pauses again. She smiles. “Yes Waverly, yes I want to be your girlfriend. I want - well, I want everything really, everything you want.”

“Yeah?” Waverly asks, voice barely more than a breath as her head rushes and her heart soars, giddy and buoyant.

“Yes, definitely,” Nicole says, very evidently putting a lot of sentiment into her voice.

“Even after I stumbled over all my words just then?” Waverly asks, joking around again now.

Still looking delighted, Nicole laughs and the sound comes out much louder than warranted by the lukewarm humour. Waverly understands that it is more than amusement, however, it is relief and joy and maybe, just maybe, it is also something of a precursor to love. Waverly knows that expression because she wears it herself whenever she thinks of Nicole. Deep down, she knows it is far too soon for anything like that - they have only just had _this_ conversation, after all - but it is nice, thinking of where they might end up one day.

“Even then yes,” Nicole says, beaming. “Not that it matters. It was kind of brave, you know, asking that - especially down the phone.”

Waverly considers this for a moment. “You think I should have waited?”

“Just because I was? No, not at all,” Nicole replies, tone easy and open. “There’s never a bad time to know that the girl - and this is top secret info by the way - that you’re _super_ into wants to be your girlfriend.”

“Aw, you’re into me?” Waverly asks, chuckling at Nicole’s joke.

“Kind of, I guess.”

Waverly pokes her tongue out, wondering as she does if this might be the happiest she has ever been. Moments like this are the ones that ease the odd, creeping sense of sadness that had set in when she returned to Purgatory.

“Hang on,” she says, something occurring to her suddenly, like a lightning bolt, “what do you mean you were waiting?”

Nicole ducks her head, a sweet little gesture Waverly has come to recognise as something Nicole does when she is slightly sheepish; almost embarrassed but not quite.

“I was thinking, you know, the next time I saw you in person…” she pauses, tucks a loose piece of hair behind her right ear. “I was hoping to kind of confirm that what was in my head was real…”

 _Oh_.

If Waverly is honest, it is something of a revelation to know that Nicole was already there too, at least in her own head.

Silently, she resolves to be braver, more proactive, from now on. They wasted all that time in Greece just dancing around their feelings, yet at every turn they have been on the same page.

“Me too,” she says simply, knowing that Nicole will understand. She will understand that Waverly means that she too had seen this as a _relationship_ , as a proper one, and that this was not going to be a summer thing that they would allow to fizzle out.

After all, too much had aligned in their favour and, at least on Waverly’s part, they felt too strongly about each other to pass this up.

They let the conversation shift after a moment of pleasant hush, arranging their days around Waverly’s trip to the city. Nicole will have to attend a morning class and a couple of practical sessions, so she cannot meet Waverly at the bus station, much as it is obvious she would like to.

Waverly assures her it is fine and they agree to meet outside Waverly’s department office and make their plans from there. If the weather is fine they will find food and sit on the grassy slope outside the nearby faculty library, if not there is any number of cafes nearby for them to share a lunch. No need to plan anything too regimented.

Neither of them say it, but it is obvious that they do not really care where they spend their time, so long as they are together.

They end the call and Waverly’s mood is perhaps the lightest it has felt since landing back in Canada. It almost seems stupid because next to nothing had changed between them really, but it feels different somehow, knowing that in a few days she would be on her way to see her _girlfriend_.

  
  
  
  
  


That weekend, Waverly sandwiches a call with Wynonna between her conversations with Nicole, shifts at Shorty’s, and a catch-up lunch with Chrissy.

Waverly listens happily while her sister fills her in on the non-events of life working at the Greek sports bar. Wynonna intends to move on soon, apparently, but seems to have no idea of where she might want to go next.

When she is done talking and has gleaned the scant number of details regarding life back in Purgatory, Wynonna asks,

“And how goes things with Haught?”

“Yeah,” Waverly says, chewing the question over. It is odd to hear a third party mention the relationship after these weeks of secrecy. “They’re good.”

Wynonna’s image on the screen is substantially worse than when Waverly calls Nicole, probably owing to the patchy WiFi links in the bar and hostel in Greece. Even so, Waverly does not miss the face her sister pulls.

“If I’d wanted a vague answer, I’d have texted the cop.”

Waverly blinks. “Would you?”

“Maybe, maybe not but c’mon Wave. ‘Things are good’ won’t cut it with me.”

“I mean, it has only been a couple of weeks and we haven’t actually seen each other in person. That’s pretty much a truthful answer Wyn.”

Wynonna shakes her head to herself. “I can’t believe you haven’t been in the city every weekend. I would, if it were me.”

This is likely true, but the problem as Waverly sees it is that she is _not_ Wynonna.

Wynonna has never had to stop and question how her choices might be viewed by others. Wynonna never seemed to care about stuff like that, even if Waverly knew a little of the insecurities that ran below her sister’s lone wolf facade.

“Well, you’ll have to satisfy yourself with knowing that I’m seeing her tomorrow.”

“ _Good_.”

“You’re awfully invested in this, you know,” Waverly teases.

The blurry image of Wynonna seems to show her rolling her eyes. “You’re my sister and I care about you. I’ve never seen anyone make you as happy as Haught does. I just don’t want Purgatory to ruin something else for us.”

Waverly drops the humour and softens.

“It won’t. I won’t let it. Nicole is being really supportive about me waiting to tell Gus and Curtis, and I think the not-being-in-person-thing bothers her, but we’re trying to keep our communication about it open. We speak every day and uh,” Waverly pauses, knowing that her big development is precisely the kind of information Wynonna is invested in. “I actually asked her to be my girlfriend earlier this week. Y’know like, officially.”

All the way over in Athens, Wynonna actually honest to God punches the air.

“Nice one babygirl.” Rather more darkly, she adds, “she better have said yes.”

“She did Wyn, no need to go threatening anyone.”

“Good. I’m happy for you Waves.”

“Thanks,” Waverly says, meaning it.

When she stops and thinks about it, she is kind of happy for herself too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys liked the first look into Waverly and Nicole managing distance. There will be more to come on that in Chapters 2 and 3, and then a shorter conclusion in Chapter 4. Do you think Wave will tell Gus and Curtis soon or leave it a long time? How will her family react? I always love hearing people’s thoughts. 
> 
> Real quick before I finally shut up, I’d like to just mention as ever where to find me. As ever I am most active on my fandom twitter @rositabustiiios (where I talk about fic), but you can find me also @alissawrites. I will be finding myself a lot busier for quite an extended period and it will squeeze my fic time. This is for a lot of reasons, but one of the most important is that I have joined two of the coolest teams of people ever and I sort of want to spread my love for them with you lovely fic readers. 
> 
> Firstly, do you like Wynonna Earp? I certainly hope so if you’re here. What about conventions? Parties for all interests? Witty twitter accounts with surveys and polls? Well then have a look at the fun-filled fest of a twitter account that is @EarpFest. Myself and the lovely (and quite frankly, sexy) lot on the team EarpFest will be working hard until 2020 to bring the Earpiest party to Manchester in the UK. I’d love it if you could check us out. 
> 
> Secondly, if you like TV, film, and all things LGBT+ I am now a staff writer for the wonderful world of @flipscreened. Give us a look and maybe even a follow for articles galore on the wonderful world of storytelling on screen. My first article (found here:https://flipscreenblog.wordpress.com/2019/01/18/how-evelyn-carnahans-rachel-weisz-role-in-the-mummy-1999-and-the-mummy-returns-2001-affirmed-my-love-of-storytelling/) is all about Evy O’Connell from The Mummy, surprising absolutely no one after how long I spent on that wearp x TM crossover.
> 
> Okay, I promise this is the only time this fic I’ll plug my side projects, but I am very excited about both and wonder if they might be of interest to some of you. On that apologetic note, I will be back this time next week with part 2 of this fic. As ever, be kind and take care!!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well colour me as pleasantly shocked as ever at the warm reception i've received for the start of this fic. i don't really have too much to add prior to this week's chapter, just that i hope you all like the update.

Waverly wakes early on Monday morning and takes a two-hour bus ride into the city for what she quickly deems to be no reason at all. Indeed, if it weren’t for the fact that she had already been inordinately more excited to see Nicole than to receive her university induction, she would have written the day off as wasted by eleven o’clock.

Despite it being common knowledge amongst the people she meets at her induction that Waverly is already a student at the university, she is taken on the same tours and given the same spiel as she had received as an undergraduate. She had then received it again as a postgraduate too. Today marked the third time she had heard this information.

Unsurprisingly, the Classical History offices and the main uni library have not changed one bit over the summer and, as such, her tour of the buildings is completely useless to her. It is admittedly quite nice to meet her fellow PhD students and to be shown her allotted slice of desk space but really, they could have given her the security badge and co-tag at any other time. She would not be teaching younger students for at least another semester - pending some shadowing of other, qualified tutors - and her first few months seemed to consist entirely of meetings with her thesis supervisor and a metric ton of private study.

She did not, she concludes before the university's second-period lecture slot is even over, need to be here so early.

As it is, she is not in the greatest of moods when she steps outside before noon to be met with a welcome bout of late summer sunshine. Absurdly, she feels almost nervous at the prospect of meeting up with Nicole today. Internally, she scolds herself for it, but she cannot shake the feeling churning in her belly. She recognises that it is probably a mix of nerves and anticipation sending her insides into a frenzy, but most of her fears are hinged around utterly stupid considerations.

_What if she realises she’s gone off you when you’re face to face again? What if you’re just not as exciting in person as she remembers? What if the time apart has made her realise she didn’t even like being with you that much?_

It is almost like spending time with Nicole on vacation again, back when Waverly had been so determined to seem interesting and alluring that she had persistently tripped over her words and, sometimes, her own feet.

Their conversation from last week calms her nerves slightly, but she still surprises herself at how completely overwhelmed she feels.

Her phone buzzes as she shifts awkwardly from foot-to-foot, and she checks a message from Nicole and smiles at the little joke she finds.

 

_Hey! Are you still being inducted??_

_Nope I’m all done. Fully inducted and part of the cult now._

_One of us! One of us!_  
_Well, not really ‘us’ but whatever._  
_Have you been waiting long?_

_Not at all, just got outside a moment ago. It’s nice weather - shall we stay here?_

_Sure, if you want!_  
_I thought it looked promising, so I picked up some food._  
_Just got off my bus and trying to look like I know exaaactly where I’m going._  
_I should be there very soon, assuming I can follow signs._  
_(No promises on that)_

_Let me know if you get lost, I’ll try to help._

_Will do, see you shortly!_  
_Exciteeeeed!!!!!!_

 

Waverly smiles again, sending a message that she hopes indicates she feels the same (a lot of emojis and nonsensical letters smashed together).

She feels the nervous patter of her heart build up again, but does not have time to really fall foul of any further sense of worry before Nicole appears exactly where Waverly had anticipated. She rounds the correct corner, indicating that she had followed Waverly’s instructions to the tee, wearing the same pair of ripped shorts she had taken to Greece (presumably to make the most of the last gasp of summer) and a fluffy-looking grey Academy hoodie, which she had already proudly showed off on one of their numerous video calls.

She catches sight of Waverly and beams, her smile so wide that Waverly can see it all the way down the path. She visibly speeds up, perhaps possessing a little too much decorum to break into a full run but still very much hurrying nonetheless, and Waverly wonders why she ever even thought to worry.

She starts on her way to meet Nicole in the middle, but knows they will want to pop into the cafeteria behind her. Even with only a marginal move on Waverly’s part, however, Nicole is upon her in no time, arms around Waverly and holding her tight before Waverly can truly brace herself for the rush of emotion at being reunited with her _girlfriend._

“ _I’ve missed you_ ,” Nicole says in her ear, words coming out in one soft exhale that is as much a sigh as a statement.

Waverly buries her face into the crook of Nicole’s neck and grips her tight. “I’ve missed you too.”

They break away for a moment and, silently deeming themselves to be reasonably shaded in their spot off the main path and flanked by an outer wall of the large, imposing library, Nicole leans in and kisses her silly.

Waverly had known she missed the contact between them, but she had perhaps not appreciated how much and how intensely she had felt the distance between them until they could finally close it.

Nicole’s lips are warm and soft and greedy; just as wonderful as Waverly remembers.

The kiss ends quickly, however, because they are both smiling too much to make it last any longer.

In fact, they cannot seem to stop smiling.

 

 

 

 

 

They break apart eventually, drifting wordlessly out of the shade and towards the college cafeteria. Almost as if on autopilot, Nicole goes to drift ever so slightly apart, but Waverly catches her hand and tangles their fingers together.

She meets Nicole’s eye, uncertain all of a sudden. “This is okay, right? I mean this campus is super liberal…”

“It’s fine,” Nicole says warmly, giving Waverly’s hand a squeeze. “Well, if it’s not we’ll soon find out I guess. I was more thinking for you. If you wanted to wait until you’d told...people.”

Nicole gives Waverly a cautious, guarded look.

“Trust me, if there’s anyone else from Purgatory here then that will be more shocking to the locals than me holding hands with you. Our college rate is like, one person per grade if that. Anyone who actually _leave_ leaves runs a million miles away, not to the closest city.”

Nicole snorts. “Oh I _so_ can’t wait to see this place one day.”

One day, Waverly knows, Nicole will see Purgatory. In fact, Waverly wants that almost more than anything.

So, with the decision made to eschew subtlety, they stroll hand-in-hand into the little cafeteria, on the hunt for sandwiches or salads they can take and eat outside. Nicole has already brought fruit and chips, so they are well on their way to a proper little picnic by the time they step back outside with a falafel salad for Waverly and an enormous slice of pizza for Nicole.

They settle on the grass a decent way away from other students and tuck into their food.

After grappling with a particularly pesky and stringy bit of cheese, Nicole asks,

“So, your induction was a bust?”

Waverly pauses with a spoonful of pomegranate seeds halfway to her mouth. “What makes you say that?”

Nicole considers this for a moment before shrugging.

“Dunno, actually. Just something in your tone when you texted I guess. I might have misread or assumed, sorry.”

“No, you’re spot on, I’m just surprised you knew. I didn’t think I’d let on.”

Nicole chuckles. “They’ll make a cop out of me yet. Anyway, what was so bad about it?”

Waverly eats her pomegranate. She is still somewhat unaccustomed to a partner who reads between her lines and takes a genuine interest in her pursuits. Both effortlessly and unknowingly, Nicole is a wonderful girlfriend; engaged and doting without reprieve, she is more attentive in a single conversation than Champ was for an entire relationship.

After a small, encouraging smile from Nicole, Waverly launches into an explanation about how unnecessary it had been to send her on an orientation around a building she had been using for the past four years. Eventually she concludes with a hearty sigh,

“I didn’t need to get out of bed so early.”

This makes Nicole laugh. “Ah yes, the morning person thing strikes again.”

Playfully, Waverly bumps their shoulders together.

“Don’t be smug.”

“I’m not. Or if I am, it’s only because I get to have lunch with you today.”

Waverly sends Nicole a look. “You’re very smooth sometimes.”

“I have my moments,” Nicole jokes back before growing serious again. “But getting back to it for a second, are you happy with the rest of your program?”

“Oh yeah,” Waverly says confidently. “I’m excited to start my research and I can’t wait to teach. Just the introductory stuff is pointless and the only acceptable reason to get me out of my bed before five is if I’m coming into the city to see you, not creepy old Professor Mountford.”

“Now who’s the smooth one?” Nicole teases, apparently satisfied that Waverly is not unhappy at the prospect of starting her PhD. “And poor old Professor Mountford. What’s wrong with…her?” she pauses and screws up her face in an expression of enquiry. “Him? Them?”

“Him,” Waverly answers, setting aside her empty salad box and happily starting in on the chips Nicole had bought. She even got the vegan ones, bless her. “And I don’t know, he just _is_ creepy. It’s his demeanour, mostly, but it doesn’t help that he must be about a hundred and completely grey except for his jet black eyebrows. It gives him a slightly manic expression when he teaches. Makes him look like a zealot.”

This achieves another moment of laughter from Nicole, even as she snags a chip out of Waverly’s hand.

“The bag is right here,” Waverly protests, pretending to scuffle with Nicole over the food.

“Yeah, but there’s no fun in that,” Nicole points out, expression playfully self-satisfied as she pops a chip into her mouth and crunches.

For effect, Waverly tries to pull an expression of disdain but it falls rather flat because she is forced to bite her bottom lip against her laughter.

She cannot pinpoint exactly what is so funny, but in truth it is not really that kind of laughter. It is the kind that bubbles outwards simply because she is happy, so happy in fact that the feeling cannot all be contained within her.

 

 

 

 

 

Thanks to a little bit of good fortune, Nicole’s schedule is quietest on Mondays. She is able to take a long lunch with Waverly, not having to return for class until three o’clock.

“I mean, I could probably miss it, call in sick or something...” she says as she checks the time on her phone, but she sounds uncertain.

Skipping class does not seem like something this version of Nicole would do. Perhaps it was right in her past self’s wheelhouse, back in the days when she was apparently a disaffected, uncontrollable young teenager. Waverly still struggles to believe this of Nicole, but supposes that everyone is a contradiction in some way or another. Either way, the Nicole Haught of today did not give off the vibe of a person who intentionally skipped a class.

All the same, an embarrassing little part of Waverly considers taking Nicole up on that offer, and she is pretty sure Nicole would go through with it if Waverly asked. But that is not what this thing between them is about. Rather, it is about supporting each other through what was undoubtedly going to be a tough, busy few years.

“No way,” Waverly says, jaw set. “This is important and you need to go.”

Nicole smiles, looking almost relieved that she would not have to make that call. It makes Waverly realise how much it must have meant for Nicole to even offer.

“When do you have to go home?” Nicole asks, looking fairly displeased at the prospect. Waverly cannot say she disagrees.

Waverly shrugs. “Open day ticket. The buses are usually every other hour and the last is at eight tonight.”

At this, Nicole eyes Waverly carefully. “And what about your family? Will they ask questions if you spend all day here?”

“I don’t know,” Waverly replies, considering the question carefully. “Probably, but only in passing.”

Wearing a serious look, Nicole says, “Waves. I can’t say enough how much I don’t want you in an uncomfortable position because of me. If they’re going to ask, don’t stick around and make things difficult.”

It is absurd, but something in the careful, serious way that Nicole speaks brings a lump to Waverly’s throat. She thinks that Nicole should be put out about all of this, because in every text it had been clear how excited Nicole had been to spend this day together. If Waverly went home early, she knows Nicole would be quietly disappointed and that she would hide that disappointment completely.

Nicole is being selfless in a way that Waverly can scarcely comprehend, and it makes her more emotional that it should. She tries to tamp it down - she feels slightly stupid to be teary over such a thing - and thinks that Nicole barely notices the brief wave of emotion that almost casts Waverly adrift.

“They’re not going to make much of me being away for a day, and if they do maybe that’s for the best. Either way, I don’t want to leave earlier than I absolutely have to.”

Nicole pauses and seems to look for any sign of uncertainty or hesitation on Waverly’s part before allowing her face to split into a grin.

“Are you sure? Because I was kind of hoping we could get dinner after my class, maybe walk around a bit before we eat?” Nicole looks so overjoyed at the prospect, so excited and enthusiastic that she almost reminds Waverly of a sweet, overeager puppy. It is almost patronising to think such a thing, but there is a warm, almost unconditional mood to Nicole when she is like this; planning and putting together small gestures that amount to much more in Waverly’s mind. It feels almost like that night on the Acropolis again, and Waverly knows that wild horses could not drag her home before eight o’clock.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Unfortunately, the rest of the day still passes by much faster than either woman would like.

Waverly kills an hour and a half by herself while Nicole goes to class, wandering through the nearby streets and dipping into consignment stores or old antique shops just to lose herself in browsing the old garments and curios. She had not really intended to buy, but she finds a cosy-looking jacket that will serve her well in the coming months, and she raids an old record store on Nicole’s behalf.

She had known long before returning home that the only piece of furniture that Nicole truly valued was her grandmother’s old record player. Nicole had said that she thought it might have been left to her partially out of spite on her relative’s part because she is pretty sure it was the only material thing her parents would have wanted, but it was passed straight to Nicole. Storing it had been something of a bugbear, especially as they were both part of a generation that seemed to uproot their lives more than any other, but Nicole had never been able to consider parting with it.

Waverly could now not quite recall exactly when Nicole had shared this story. Certainly it was in Greece, a little while after they got together. Perhaps they were talking about Nicole’s imminent move to Calgary, about the coincidence of it all; Nicole having accepted an offer to that particular police academy so many months before meeting Waverly. _I could have picked one a thousand miles away_ , Waverly remembers Nicole saying one night, _but I didn’t. That kind of feels like something, doesn’t it?_

It did. Lord, it did.

So, working off an ever-growing knowledge base about Nicole’s likes and dislikes, Waverly selects a few records for her girlfriend to listen to, thinking idly that one day soon they will be able to listen to them together.

Waverly can picture the scene; she and Nicole wound together on the couch while rain patters softly on the window and a record whirs and plays. Perhaps Nicole is reading, perhaps Waverly herself is working on her thesis. Perhaps they abandon their pursuits entirely in favour of the honey-sweet temptation of the other’s warm lips and bare skin.

It is an overtly romanticised image. It is idyllic and charming and perhaps a little too rosy around the edges, but by God, Waverly knows it is exactly what she wants.

After all, it seems like the obvious choice that, if they agree to move in together, Waverly should move in with Nicole and not vice versa. While she is studying and Nicole is training, Purgatory for them both is not an option. Either they will be apart indefinitely, or Waverly will have to leave Gus and Curtis and the strange little town that, once upon a time really _did_ feel like home.

She is relatively okay with the idea, but it still feels odd in some ways. She supposes any life change feels just the same. But even more than that, she feels still that her aunt and uncle gave her so much and she wants to keep paying them back as long as possible by working at Shorty’s and paying her way in the house.

She knows, however, that Gus and Curtis are ready to see Waverly spread her wings. She just hopes that they will approve of the way Waverly wishes to do so.

So, with her dreamy image of sharing a home with Nicole in mind, she selects records based on their own individual preferences. As Waverly buys a modest number of records for herself, she pictures how Nicole might look when Waverly makes the inference of a life lived together via her little package of gifts. She buys some artisanal chocolates too, because she has always had a thing about giving small but sentimental tokens to those she cared for.

As with everything related to Nicole, the reality is so much better than Waverly could have imagined. She presents the records after Nicole’s class, explaining her thought processes as succinctly as possible.

“I know this one might not be as much your thing. But I was thinking I might like to listen to it - y’know, eventually.”

Looking almost as though Waverly is about to hand over a bar of gold or an elixir of life, Nicole takes the stack of records carefully.

“I’ll put them somewhere safe,” she says, referring to Waverly’s music choices, “so that they’re there whenever you want them.”

If Waverly’s gift was a promise, then Nicole’s response is just as heavily coded; _you’re welcome to play your music in my apartment, you’re welcome to join me there. I’ll be ready as soon as you are_.

They walk around the city until it is a reasonable time to order dinner, and they sit outside a quaint little cafe and wait with weak glasses of fruity, fizzy wine until their food arrives.

They share some grazing plates and Nicole idly plays with Waverly’s hand where it rests on the table between them.

It stays warm long enough for them to finish eating and sit and chat for a while, but summer is waning now and the light fades around them far more quickly than they have been used to. It seems to illustrate the way time between them dwindles, and Waverly, feeling a shiver start up, cannot quite decide which loss - sunlight or time - leaves her colder.

Nicole watches Waverly carefully as she starts to shift in her seat, little goosebumps building up on her arms. As gallant as ever (and running warmer than Waverly could ever aspire to), Nicole offers up her hoodie and Waverly accepts as much to be enveloped in the smell of Nicole as to ward off the evening chill.

The t-shirt she had pilfered from Nicole’s luggage on their overnight layover weeks before had long since ceased to carry Nicole’s scent, and Waverly is happy to be cosied up as she is now.

Nicole had sized up on herself and, being the taller of the two, it means her sweater half-swamps Waverly who thinks she must look faintly ridiculous but cannot bring herself to care.

As time ticks on, the mood between them seems to shift as both women become quieter and more morose. Perhaps parting this time will not be quite so acute as the time before, but it does not feel that way right now.

As they rise and begin to make their way to the bus station, Waverly wonders if the sharp edge of this feeling will ever grow more dull.

By the time they have arrived at the station and secreted themselves into a sheltered, secluded corner for as many goodbye kisses as they can steal, Waverly knows this will never get easier.

Nicole’s mouth is thin and her jaw is tight as she sees Waverly onto the coach, and Waverly’s eyes are unpleasantly full as the bus pulls away and Nicole’s waiting silhouette disappears from view.

It is only when she has left the city behind entirely that Waverly realises she is still wearing Nicole’s sweater.

 

 

 

 

 

 

By the time Waverly arrives home (Nicole’s Academy hoodie hidden away securely in her bag), she almost believes that their day together has made their overall separation worse.

It hurt all the more to think that their happy days together would, for the time being, always be marred by the fact that those moments would end and they would be apart again before they knew it.

 _Of course_ , a voice says as she parks the truck in Gus and Curtis’ drive, _there is something that could be done…_

But, walking through the front door and automatically locking it behind her, Waverly feels uncharacteristically churlish and sullen. For all her procrastination, she can at least say with all honesty that she is not in the right frame of mind to even consider spilling her secrets to her family tonight.

Both her aunt and uncle are still up, but Waverly knows they will be heading to bed soon.

Guiltily, she wishes she had arrived just a little later and passed them both like ships in the night.

She is not really in the mood to talk to anyone just now.

Gus and Curtis are not to know this however, and they greet her warmly when she walks down the front hall and passes the open door to the living room. She pauses briefly at the doorway, forcing a smile that she knows must look painfully unconvincing.

“How was your day?” Gus says, eyes darting between Waverly and the thick woollen sock she is currently darning for Curtis. Waverly wonders why they don’t just buy a new set, but does not raise the question. They are the thrifty, ‘waste not, want not’ sorts.

“It was fine,” she says mildly. _I wish it hadn’t ended_ , she doesn’t add.

“Was your induction good?”

“Not really, nothing I didn’t already know.” _Time I could have spent with Nicole_ , Waverly decides, even as she ignores the fact that Nicole was in class this morning and therefore unavailable.

Gus flashes her a look of sympathy. “Waste of a day?”

“Waste of a morning,” Waverly amends.

“We expected you back earlier,” Gus says, no hint of a criticism in her tone. “So you must have found something to make the trip a bit more worthwhile. Shopping?” she asks, noting Waverly’s bags.

“Yeah, and a trip to a nice cafe.”

For the first time, Gus seems to notice the slightly hollow quality to Waverly’s voice as she answers. She is rarely so perfunct or concise. She flashes another quick look at Waverly.

“So long as you enjoyed your day.”

“I did,” Waverly says, trying this time for a more convincing smile and a little more enthusiasm. “I’m just tired after my early start.”

Still eyeing her carefully, Gus does not look entirely convinced but seems a little more satisfied.

“Are you heading to bed then?”

“Yeah, I think that’s a good idea.”

They bid each other goodnight, and Waverly turns and drags herself up the stairs without any further fanfare. She can almost feel her aunt’s eyes on her back until she is out of sight.

 

 

 

 

 

 

_Are you still awake?_

 

Waverly had just settled in bed and catches the message from Nicole immediately. She responds with a weak joke, her attempt at a humour she does not actually feel.

 

_Is this like a ‘u up?’ text?_

_No, it’s a ‘are you awake so I can ask you if you’re okay’ text._

 

Oh. Well that was certainly far more direct than Waverly had anticipated.

 

_Of course I’m okay. Why wouldn’t I be?_

 

What follows is a delay as Nicole types and types, but her response is far too short. She had clearly rephrased her message a few times before hitting send.

 

_I don’t know. Things just felt a little weird when you left. And I didn’t hear from you on the way back._  
_Thought I might have, is all._

 

Waverly rereads the messages a couple of times, trying to work out Nicole’s tone. It is not immediately obvious, however, and Waverly cannot quite decipher the direction the conversation is taking.

 

 _Sorry, the journey just got away from me I guess_.

 

She does not mention the part about things feeling weird; avoidance is practically a sport for Earps.

All the same, Nicole was right, Waverly did feel odd and out of sorts, especially considering how happy she had been only a few hours ago.

_No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like it reads. I just missed hearing from you and I don’t know..._  
_I think I’m just feeling a little weird tonight._  
_Ignore me, were you about to go to sleep?_

 

Waverly is not sure if it is a relief to hear that it is just not her that cannot seem to reconcile the feelings coursing through her.

 

_I mean, yeah but_  
_I can stay up. Are you okay?_

_I’m fine. You should rest baby you had an early start._

_Nicole…_

_It’s really dumb and needy, honestly. Don’t worry about it._

_/Nicole….../_

 

Again, Nicole takes a short while to reply.

 

 _I suppose I was just worried._  
_About whether you enjoyed yourself today._  
_Like I said, it’s stupid._

_Baby, of course I had a good time today. The best time._  
_Didn’t you?_

 

As soon as Waverly asks the question, she dreads the answer.

_It was an amazing day._

_I feel the same. Did I do something to make you worry?_

_You’re fine, I promise._  
_Like I say, I thought things felt kind of weird at the end_  
_But it’s probably just me imagining things_

 

At this, Waverly pauses with her thumbs hovering above her screen. It would be so easy to reassure Nicole that things were fine. After all, it was the truth. Things between them really were fine. Or, good. Better than good, even. Whatever it was that Waverly was feeling - whatever weirdness Nicole had correctly picked up on - was all on Waverly, and nothing to do with the relationship.

But she had made Nicole promise to be open if something was bothering her and this was a prime example of Nicole keeping to her end of the bargain; it wouldn’t be at all fair of Waverly to do the opposite.

 

 _You’re right, I do feel really weird._  
_I can’t put my finger on what’s wrong with me._  
_But it isn’t you, or us, and it wasn’t today. I really did have a perfect day._

_Are you sure?_  
_You’d tell me if you were having second thoughts, right?_

 

This message shocks Waverly, because again she had not expected Nicole to simply be so forthright about it.

She presses the button on a video call, and Nicole comes into view immediately. She is in bed too and barely visible in the dark room. She shifts about until a lamp clicks on. The lighting makes her look grainy but Waverly can see the worried look on her face.

“Hey,” Nicole says, sounding cautious.

“I didn’t think this was a conversation to have over text.”

This, at least, makes Nicole grin. “Yeah, you’re right.”

She shifts around on her mattress, and Waverly wishes fervently that she was lying there with Nicole.

“To answer your question: I’m not,” Waverly says simply, and her tone makes Nicole visibly relax. This changes almost immediately, however, when Waverly follows up with, “did you ask because you were having second thoughts about us?”

At this, Nicole’s eyes grow wide and her face falls. “ _No_. God, absolutely not.”

The certainty in Nicole’s voice stills a quiver of nerves that Waverly had barely registered starting up. If parting again after such a nice, _normal_ day together had made Waverly feel out of sorts, it was apparently nothing compared to the thought of giving the relationship up.

“So we’re both just in weird moods,” Waverly concludes, joking somewhat now.

Nicole follows Waverly’s tone and gives her a small smile. “Apparently so.”

“I guess I just thought today would like, have the opposite effect,” Waverly begins, thinking aloud and not even sure what point she is trying to make.

Nicole furrows her brow. “How so?”

“Like,” Waverly begins, before pausing and giving it all some thought. “I had such a good day - please believe me because I really, really did - and I guess I was picturing today as almost like, topping up some invisible glass or something. God that sounds so stupid. Do you even know what I mean?”

With an apologetic look, Nicole shakes her head. “Not entirely, I don’t think.”

“I think I’d just thought that, if missing you was like something draining, then today would almost be like a top up on time with you. And I’d go home and all that missing you would have been sated for a little while.”

“Like it would tide you over?” Nicole ventures, trying her best to understand. “It makes sense, I think.”

“But I think it’s hit me that more I see you, the _worse_ the distance is gonna be and not the other way round. I’m not gonna be able to remedy it by individual days as and when, until something better presents itself.”

“So do you want to - ” Nicole begins, but Waverly has no intention of letting her finish that thought.

“No. I don’t want to see less of you and I definitely don’t want to never see you.”

Nicole looks relieved. “Good, okay. But then...where do we go from here?”

“I think maybe I need to keep this in mind, make sure I’m prepared next time.”

Nicole nods. “Okay. Me too, maybe.”

She does not sound entirely sure, but she at least looks content that Waverly is not questioning the relationship.

“I put your records on as soon as I got home,” Nicole says softly, changing the subject in a way that does not feel evasive. The conversation is over, the issues exorcised for now.

“How did you like my selection?” Waverly says. “I tried to pick artists you liked and just hoped you didn’t have the albums already.”

“I know, and it was really sweet of you,” Nicole says, looking a little bashful. “But I uh, I actually meant that I listened to _your_ records.”

Waverly pauses, connecting the dots until she realises that Nicole had put on Waverly’s own music choices.

Momentarily speechless, she pictures Nicole alone in her apartment, listening to music she doesn’t even like purely because it reminds her of Waverly, and she vows that - weird feeling or not - she never wants to even come close to throwing this thing between them away.

 

 

 

 

 

 

By the next morning, things are mostly back to normal.

As it was, the mood between the two women went back to normal almost immediately. Neither had wanted to hang up with that conversation the last thing on their minds, so they talked a little more and Waverly apologised for accidentally stealing Nicole’s hoodie. Naturally, she had been wearing it above her pyjamas and, upon realising this, Nicole failed to fully hide a little look of delight.

“Do you need it back?” Waverly had asked, biting at her bottom lip.

“I mean, eventually it would be nice,” Nicole said, evidently teasing. “But not imminently. It’s not like we _have_ to wear them or anything, it was just an extra we could get. You keep it for now.”

“ _Thank you_ ,” Waverly had trilled, voice singsong as she flashed an intentionally cheesy smile.

Things felt a lot easier after that, perhaps because they were both so pleased at the other’s reaction to this one simple thing; Nicole was evidently happy that Waverly was so keen to hang on to her things. Waverly had never really needed to say that being enveloped in something of Nicole’s like this is a comfort and delight, because her motivations must surely be obvious.

Nonetheless, however, Waverly still feels slightly strange after they hang up. Her bed is cold and the raging silence of the Purgatory night bothers her. She drifts off to sleep pondering how something so happy - time with Nicole - can leave her with such a sharp barb of sadness immediately after it ends.

Perhaps it is strange - she expects to feel bereft without Nicole, of course she does - but she had been unprepared to feel as though missing Nicole was a knife in her side, and someone was twisting it every time they parted again.

There is proof now, Waverly supposes, that they are working; that they _can_ work. If she is being honest, Waverly had still harboured some small fear that things might be different once they were no longer on vacation together. She had struggled to shake her fears over Nicole leaving her behind as a summer romance, but yesterday had felt _normal_. Yesterday had felt like girlfriends doing regular, everyday things. Yesterday had felt like leaving more than just Nicole behind, somehow.

The wound is still smarting when Waverly wakes up the next morning, but it is like it is scarring over already. She will get used to it soon, she decides, and this will not be forever. Somehow, they will work towards that.

Over in the city, Nicole had evidently risen before her, and had left a sweet message for Waverly to find first thing. It makes Waverly miss her all the more, but not in quite the same sharp, stinging way as yesterday.

With this to lift her spirits slightly, Waverly gets up, dresses, and gathers a few things for her first real day of PhD work.

She and Gus will not be working at Shorty’s until later that day, and her aunt is currently to be found in the kitchen making a delicious-smelling pumpkin pie out of one of the more enthusiastic specimens from Curtis’ patch. Some of them have, apparently, grown too fast this year.

Waverly deposits her laptop and a small stack of books on the round, wooden kitchen table as her aunt wishes her a good morning.

“Feeling any better today?” Gus asks as Waverly roots about in the fridge for some breakfast.

At this, she freezes, glad that the fridge door is shielding her from Gus’ gaze. “What do you mean?”

“Well honey it’s none of my business but you didn’t seem too happy last night. Is everything okay with school?”

Funny. Nicole had asked her the exact same thing.

It still does something to Waverly, hearing that people care about her. It does something powerful and emotional. After her mother disappearing and her father never really caring for her in the first place - coupled with Wynonna’s eventual departure - a younger Waverly had truly believed that she drove people far, far away. She had believed that no one cared, not _really_ , and years with Champ had done very little to dispel the notion.

But Gus sounds just as worried as Nicole that Waverly might be unhappy at the prospect of further studies or, perhaps, that she was feeling daunted and under pressure.

But in truth, although she feels a natural amount of apprehension, she has barely thought about it at all. She is excited to return to studying, and prepared for the challenge a thesis will provide her. She has always been smart - perhaps smarter than she has really allowed herself to acknowledge - and in truth neither high school nor her undergraduate course had provided much of a challenge for her. Always, the biggest question had simply been the logistics of how to tackle more of hours of work than there were hours in a day. Her masters degree had finally felt like getting into the gritty details, and she was hoping her PhD would keep pushing her to innovate.

She has not, however, said this in any detail to Gus or Curtis, and has only given it a glancing mention to Nicole.

“I am a little nervous,” Waverly says, still hidden in the fridge. It is not that her nerves feel especially out of the ordinary or unmanageable, but that Gus will be satisfied to be given an inch of truth. Any other response would only generate further prompting from her aunt, who would assume that Waverly was deflecting. “But honestly Gus, I really was beat last night.”

“Well you certainly did come home late,” Gus says, asking a question without actually commenting on the fact that Waverly could have arrived home any time after midday. “And stayed up late talking.”

In truth, Waverly had hung up from Nicole not long after eleven, but that wasn’t really the point Gus was trying to make. She feels a familiar sick sensation settle in her belly.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she says quickly, finally emerging from the fridge with a carton of almond milk and very little else. “Did I keep you both awake?”

“No,” Gus says evenly, “you were quiet. We just knew you were talking - we couldn’t hear you. Your secrets are safe.”

Waverly works to keep her expression neutral but in truth this conversation had taken a strange turn. It was not like Gus to be so evasive; normally, if she thought something then she said it. She was never harsh or unkind, just direct. This, however, felt like more of an underhand swipe at Waverly, who feels an absurd shudder of nerves that her aunt somehow knows her secret.

“What do you mean?”

At this, Gus is the one to pause. When she speaks again she sounds much more like herself.

“Nothing. Sorry sweetheart, I don’t know what I mean. You’re a good kid, it’s none of our business if you want to go shopping or make phone calls.”

Waverly bites back a smile. She has not been a kid for a decent spell of time now, but she knows that Gus actually means precisely the opposite: _you’re an adult, you can do what you want_.

“Okay,” Waverly says, because Gus’ statement had seemingly invited a response, but Waverly had no desire to drag this conversation out. She thinks for a moment how easy it would be to sit at the kitchen table and explain why she had stayed so late in the city last night. She opens her mouth, willing her voice to work, but Gus has already moved on.

“Back to studying this morning?” she observes. “Well you get to it, and pass me that stuff - I’ll make you some pancakes.”

“It’s fine, you’re already busy. I think there’s some cereal in the cupboard.”

“That’s no kind of breakfast,” Gus says dismissively. “I’m already cooking - a few pancakes won’t make any difference.”

She takes the almond milk - which she calls _that stuff_ on such a regular basis that Waverly wonders if her aunt simply refuses to acknowledge it as a viable foodstuff - and begins rifling through the cupboard designated for baking supplies.

“I put that vegetable whatsit in this pie,” she goes on, and it takes Waverly a moment to realise that Gus means the vegetable oil spread she uses in place of butter. Her aunt shakes the carton. “And this. So you can have some.”

Gus smiles and Waverly feels her heart swell. It is a small gesture, but her aunt makes so many of them that they add up quickly. Waverly has often wondered if that is where she gets her own impulse to give out tiny but meaningful tokens of affection.

Along with a stack of pancakes, Gus eventually passes Waverly a jar of peanut butter and a cup of tea, before wordlessly resuming her cooking and letting Waverly study in peace.

In truth, she would not have minded if her aunt had interrupted from time to time. This has always been Waverly’s favourite place to study, sat in the kitchen with the warmth of the cooker and the comforting presence of Gus moving around. Sometimes they are joined too by Curtis, who might call in for a sandwich at lunchtime before going back out to work at whatever job he had booked that day.

As a child, she had done her homework in the just the same way. Back then, the only thing missing from the picture had been Wynonna. Now, though, Nicole feels just as absent.

Perhaps Waverly had not pictured Nicole here in the McCready household in such a way, but she had imagined studying at Nicole’s apartment. She had the quaint little idea that she would listen out for Nicole’s key at certain times - lunchtime or at the end of the day - or else they might sit together and pore over books as Nicole prepared to sit her exams much later on down the line.

All told, with this image running round her head and a steady stream of texts from Nicole, Waverly does not actually get much studying done. It is far from a wasted morning, however, because she gets an out of context selfie from Nicole (who looks as beautiful as she has always done), and enjoys the enormous quantity of pancakes her aunt makes. She is just lucky that she is still a million miles away from having to write a thesis and is, at the moment, expected to read widely around her subject and come up with a more comprehensive proposal to build upon the one she submitted with her application.

She manages to produce a decent skeleton of a plan upon which to build in the coming days before Gus declares that it is time for them both to head into work.

Recently, Waverly has been dreading her shifts at the bar.

There is nothing specific that she can pinpoint as being a problem, but an increasing number of small discomforts. The biggest problem is that Champ and his buddies are hanging around more than ever.

Of course, they are always at the bar because Shorty’s is one of the only places that people from Purgatory congregate to drink. There are a couple of clubs and other bars elsewhere, but Shorty has a monopoly on customer loyalty.

So, since the break up, Waverly has seen her fair share of Champ because he and his friends usually occupy a large table or booth. Until recently, however, they have mostly kept to themselves, endeavouring to order drinks off Gus or keeping small talk with Waverly to a bare minimum.

In the early days, most of the guys had tried their luck a few times once Waverly was single, and a fair few had made lascivious comments, but it had been curtailed pretty swiftly when Shorty had threatened them with a markup on beer prices. He had been met with a flurry of protestations - mostly people confidently asserting that he was not allowed to do that.

“It’s my bar,” Shorty had said, wiping the smiles off their faces. “So I think you’ll find I can do what I want. I don’t pay wages for wasted time. So if _you_ want to waste my staff’s time then you can pay for it. Call it a service tax if you like.”

At the time, Waverly could have kissed him.

He was probably the only decent guy in Purgatory, besides Uncle Curtis and Perry Crofte from the grade above Waverly’s.  

For almost a year it had worked, but since returning from Greece Waverly had noticed a rather substantial increase in the time Champ and a few other men spent loitering at the bar.

She is almost mad at herself for letting the lot of them make her dread going into a job she otherwise likes. But, she has reasoned countless times recently, who _wouldn’t_ feel that way, knowing the way the men’s eyes drifted over her body and their hands wandered when she walked past? Who wouldn’t feel uncomfortable, knowing precisely the despicable things they say about her when they think they are out of earshot?

She shouldn’t have to put up with it, but there is no other choice.

Purgatory had always been the kind of place where men were allowed to behave this way. In fact they should put it on the ‘you are now entering…’ sign.

**_Purgatory: where boys will simply be boys and get away with it_.**

She has endeavoured to keep her concerns from both Shorty and Gus, because the former’s wife is sick and he is working less and less. She could reasonably speak to Gus - she dreads to think of the wrath that would be unleashed if Gus knew Waverly felt as upset as she did - but somehow the idea of it feels odd and awkward. Waverly has always been tough and, in truth, there is a stubborn streak in her that wants to deal with this herself.

Just as she and Gus are unlocking the front door, Waverly feels her phone buzz.

 _Work time soon, right?_ Nicole has written. _Don’t let the assholes win. You’re worth about a hundred million of each of them._

Waverly cannot help but smile.

 

_You know you’re impossibly cute, right?_

_I really do try my best._  
_But seriously though, I’m always on your team._

_I know baby. Thank you._  
_It means everything. You mean everything._

 

Waverly stares at the message chain a moment before making her way round the bar.

She can do this. If Nicole is right behind her, anything will work out.

 

 

 

 

 

 

To her immense credit, Waverly lasts until the early evening before questioning how much she really needs the money from this job.

Being broke would arguably be better than dealing with a drunk and rowdy group of guys she once went to school with.

Apparently they have been celebrating a birthday. Or something. They are not especially clear on the details.

Whatever the case, they turn up at Shorty’s already far too drunk to be granted admission in most other places, and by the look on Gus’ face when they stagger to a table, they are most definitely on thin ice. With a guarded look she serves them a few pitchers of beer, but draws the line at anything harder.

This only generates a round of slurred and partly unintelligible protests, but Gus stands firm.

“If you want to get served here at all, you’ll be thankful for what you get.”

She plonks the jugs of beer down, sloshing a little of the liquid over the sides and onto the table, looking completely uncontrite as she does so.

On the way back across the bar, she gives Waverly a long, probing look.

“You had your break?” she asks.

“Since when do we get breaks?” Waverly jokes back, not quite meeting her aunt’s eye.

“Since I don’t want you dealing with clowns.”

“It’s fine,” Waverly says, drying a glass far more thoroughly than is really necessary. She does not want special treatment, and she especially does not want to Champ - _of course_ he is among the group - to see her getting any such special treatment. When Gus says nothing more Waverly chances a glance upwards and finds she is being watched very closely. “I can handle myself.”

“Lord knows that’s true,” Gus says, smiling to herself. “I’ve known that about you and your sister since day one. But it doesn’t mean I can’t help out sometimes.”

Waverly feels herself ease up slightly. “I know. If there’s a problem, I’ll say.”

Deep down, however, she knows that she will deal with whatever arises herself. Champ and his friends have tried to corner her from the very first moment that she ended the relationship, as if she was the one who had been treating Champ badly. He had garnered all the sympathy, not that Waverly particularly wanted any for herself. But their constant advances or probing questions were designed to make her uncomfortable and the idea that so much of it was conducted in front of her aunt made her stomach squeeze.

It was bad enough knowing that the Purgatory gossip mill worked so tirelessly that Gus and Curtis probably knew more about the break up than they would ever let on. She did not want anyone to think she was somehow on the run from these guys.

This sort of resolute stance was, however, easier said than done when Champ staggers over about half an hour after his arrival. He takes a seat at the bar, and although Waverly would normally chase him away immediately, she is not convinced that standing is even an option for him anymore.

Gus is back in the kitchen, and Waverly is under no illusions that, even drunk as he is, Champ had picked his moment deliberately.

He mumbles something and, after a few attempts, Waverly understands it as a request for a drink. She cannot quite tell exactly which one he wants, but suffice it to say it was stronger than beer.

Waverly crosses her arms across her chest and sends him a stony look. “Gus said no liquor.”

“Gus isn’t here,” Champ says, just about separating each word, although Gus’ name seems to provide something of a challenge for him.

“She can be,” Waverly says, making as if to leave the bar and fetch her aunt. “You can ask her for your drink.”

At this, Champ looks mildly horrified and garbles out a few ‘ _no’s_. “It’s fine. Beer is fine.”

Waverly chances a quick glance at Champ’s table. Sure enough, the three pitchers are already nearly empty. Feeling her mouth press into a thin line, she picks up a clean glass.

“A pitcher,” Champ tries, mouth struggling with the ‘p’ sound for a moment.

“You’ve all had more than enough. No more pitchers.”

“ _Waves_ ,” Champ whines, and something in this causes an invisible band within Waverly to snap. She puts the empty glass back down with a heavy clunk. Immediately, Champ seems to recoil and Waverly wonders what exactly it is on her face that tells him he has pressed the wrong button.

“Don’t even try it,” she hisses. “You lost that right a long time ago.”

“Okay, okay,” Champ huffs. He is admittedly drunk and therefore insolent, but he had always possessed a healthy dose of childish insolence to begin with. “ _Sorry_.”

His eyes dart hopefully back to the discarded glass and with a sigh of her own, Waverly fills it for him. Anything to make him go away.  

“There,” she says, sliding his beer towards him. “You know the cost by now.”

Champ makes a great show of counting out his money, and he has never been particularly subtle. He might be drunk but he is also playing for time.

As he sifts through for the exact change, Waverly senses more than hears Gus return.

Eventually, Champ gets himself together and hands his money over. As he does, he asks, “is it true?”

Waverly regards him cautiously. “Is what true?”

“That you met someone in Greece?”

The question is unexpected and it knocks Waverly sideways for a moment. Her mind drifts to Nicole, to how much she would love to tell Champ that Nicole is everything he has never been. But that is not how this conversation is meant to go. Champ doesn’t get to know about Nicole; he doesn’t get access to anything important in Waverly’s life now.

“Even if I had, why would I tell you?” Waverly asks coldly, perhaps much more so than she would have if Champ had been sober and in possession of all his limited wits.

“I wish we could - ” Champ begins, before Waverly cuts him off. He almost looks sad and Waverly will not allow him to try and wrestle any sympathy from her.

“Well, we can’t. You saw to that a long time ago.”

“Waves- Waverly -”

“Go back to your friends, Champ.”

For a moment, he looks as if he will protest again, but instead he must think better of it, because he levels off his beer and rises unsteadily to his feet before toddling away.

Not for the first time recently, Waverly finds herself thinking just how desperately she needs to say goodbye to this town.

 

 

 

 

 

 

“I have a confession,” Nicole says grandly, and Waverly can hear down the phone that something is different in her voice.

Although pretty sure this is a joke, she still feels a strange sort of nervousness pop up between her ribs. It sounds as though Waverly is not the only one who has spent her night at a bar and she has far too many bad associations when it comes to her partner going out and drinking.

But Nicole is not Champ, and if anything tonight has only reinforced that further.

“What’s that then?”

“ _Might_ have gone out to the bar with some of the people from my precinct tonight,” Nicole says, stringing out the first word to an almost adorable degree. The more she says, the more evident it becomes that she has been having a party of her own.

“ _And_ …?” Waverly prompts, finding that she is smiling.

“And I’m _ma-aybe_ a little drunk.”

Waverly laughs. “You sound more than a little drunk.”

Nicole gives a sweet little huff down the phone. “M’ _fine_. It was just a few beers.”

“Well, did you have fun with your few beers?”

“Yes. Was nice to hang out with people,” Nicole says vaguely, and Waverly is left to assume she means her classmates.

“Good, I’m glad you’re getting to know some of them,” Waverly replies, feeling a happy little flutter in her chest at the thought of Nicole enjoying herself.

“Yep,” Nicole tells her happily.

“Any other confessions? Or just that you’re drinking on a school night?”

“My other confession is that you’re cute,” Nicole says plainly, and Waverly laughs out loud before quickly covering her mouth and hoping she did not wake her aunt and uncle across the landing. “And that I kept telling people at the bar about you. Not too many details obviously, just brought you up a lot.”

“Wow, you really _are_ drunk.”

“Hey!” Nicole cries, sounding genuinely indignant. “I always say you’re cute.”

She has a point there, Waverly decides.

“Yes but this is you being drunk and sappy. I like this Nicole,” Waverly says with a smile before pausing and amending herself. “Well, I like all Nicoles really.”

“I like all Waverlys,” Nicole says sweetly, words a little loose at the edges. She already sounds like she is drifting.

“Where are you by the way, are you at home?”

Nicole’s words come out slow and deliberate. “Yeah, m’in bed. Are you?”

“Yes, got home a little while ago.”

“Crap. Did I wake you?”

“No, not really. And I wouldn’t have cared if you did.”

“You’re cute.”

Waverly bites back a laugh. “So you’ve said.”

Nicole pauses before speaking again.

“Something’s bothering you. You're annoyed about something,” she says eventually, words still slightly slurred but her tone laced with deliberate concentration, like she is working exceptionally hard to make herself understood. She is always so earnest and it makes Waverly’s heart ache in the best possible way.

“It’s nothing, I promise. We’ll talk about it tomorrow, I don’t want you to end your night on a bad note.”

“Is it because I’m drunk?” Nicole asks and Waverly already knew she was a cute drunk, but this is even more so than usual. The beer has made her loose-lipped and a little illogical; sober Nicole would absolutely know that something like this would not make Waverly so fed up.

“ _No_ absolutely not. I’m happy you’ve had a good night.”

Nicole will not be distracted. “Is it work?”

“Kinda, yeah.”

“Is it Champ?”

“Yeah,” Waverly says with a sigh. “It’s just a bit oppressive here sometimes.”

“I’m sorry,” Nicole says softly, in a voice that makes Waverly’s stomach flutter. “Is there something I can do?”

Waverly considers this for a moment.

“You’re already doing it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaand that's it until next week! in the meantime, i hope that everyone is coping as well as possible with the horrible winter weather i've been seeing on the news. stay safe out there!!
> 
> if you want to talk, i am as always on @rositabustiiios on twitter!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I'm back with the penultimate chapter of this fic. I have a couple more things to post for you in the coming weeks once this fic is done, so I'm currently working on editing those.
> 
> As a sidenote, thank you if you've checked out my fic for the EFA challenge. If you guys haven't already, please go look at the all the amazing submissions to Earp Fiction Addiction's 2019 prompt challenge. This is the second one they've run and I love writing for it. This year the prompt is toothpaste. I actually wrote two pieces and will post the one I'm not entering in the next few days or weeks. 
> 
> In the meantime, it's time for chapter three! Waverly has an important conversation to have...

The next few times Waverly calls into the city, she better prepares herself for what it will feel like to leave Nicole again after only a few hours.

Arriving at the bus station in the evening still leaves them quiet and melancholy, but it is marginally better now. They start expecting the feeling, and they learn the best ways to simply power on through it.

As a general rule, Waverly arrives in the city in the morning and visits the faculty library to pick out some books or type up notes on her laptop. After this, she meets Nicole in time for lunch.

The two of them spend time together, working around Nicole’s classes. Sometimes they have a full, uninterrupted afternoon at their disposal, and sometimes they have barely an hour to spare. Either way, they part in time for the eight o’clock bus and pretend that it isn’t completely frustrating to conduct their relationship this way.

The longer they are a couple, the more Waverly feels certain that they are in it for the long haul. In turn, the more this thought takes root in her mind, the more ready she feels to move her life out of Purgatory. She bides her time a little before mentioning this, however, because it is still early days between them and Waverly is keen to better gauge how Nicole feels.

The problem is that Nicole - _sweet, trusting Nicole_ \- is rarely the one to bring this topic up first. She does not seem to want to add any pressure onto Waverly, who finds that time does not make her feel any less guilty about remaining closeted.

As weeks drift by, she cannot tell which part makes her feel worse; that Nicole is dating someone who is still too scared to tell her own family the truth, or that Gus and Curtis had always raised her to be honest and now she is lying (even if only by omission) about the single most important thing in her life.

Because there was no doubt in her mind and, arguably, there never really had been. Nicole had easily become the most significant source of light in Waverly’s entire life, and Waverly finds herself feeling increasingly protective and defensive of their relationship as time goes on. She knows that others, especially those in Purgatory, will not see things the way Waverly does.

She starts to find that the longer she keeps things a secret, the worse the anxiety gets. Deep down she knows she and Nicole are strong enough - both as individuals and as a couple - to deal with the bad stuff, whether that be Purgatory’s small-town conservatism or something else entirely. Bad stuff was inevitable, and Waverly knew that she and Nicole could weather the storm. But this did not mean that she especially _wanted_ to. Knowing that, for now, she is free from the hurt of hearing others drag her relationship through the mud becomes _easy_.

Waverly knows she has to work through it, and realises that she can start small as Nicole gradually expands her own circle of friends.

Slowly but surely, Nicole strikes up a decent rapport with two people who work in technical teams - IT and pathology respectively - affiliated with the city’s police force.  

“I’m pretty sure they’re both gay. Or LGBT. _Not straight_ , basically,” Nicole says of them one night via video call. “They were telling me a story that was set at Pride, and I really don’t get a ‘straight person on a sightseeing trip’ vibe from them.”

She looks a little hopeful, and Waverly secretly crosses her fingers.

Being far more used to the repeated process of  coming out, Nicole has been testing the waters with both her fellow trainees and the qualified cops who teach them. She has only danced around the subject when they speak, but Waverly can tell that she is uncomfortable keeping herself closeted. Nicole does not seem to want to mention in any great depth that she feels hemmed in and isolated, but Waverly can read between the lines when Nicole repeats that she wants to find more ways to get involved with the city’s LGBT community. Nicole is ready for this part of her life to be common knowledge, and she is silently and patiently waiting for Waverly to catch up. It is another thing Waverly finds herself apologising for, because she sometimes cannot help but feel like she is restricting Nicole in more ways than just the distance between them.

On more than one occasion, Waverly finds herself worrying over just how long Nicole might keep things on pause.

So, she starts doing her best to open up a little more. Telling anyone at home who is not Gus, Curtis, or Chrissy Nedley was tantamount to telling the whole town, but these are not her only options anymore. Just because she is not ready to hear the townsfolk in Purgatory passing judgement and sullying something, _someone_ , she holds so special, does not necessarily mean she has to keep completely silent.  

The upshot of this is that, on a day when she is to meet Nicole right out of class, Waverly finds herself shifting from foot-to-foot outside the cadet training facility, waiting for Nicole to emerge and hoping that she is not alone.

When luck dictates that Nicole emerges onto the street with two others - a man and a woman - in tow, Waverly does not wait for Nicole to peel away. Instead, she steps forward into a situation where she knows she will be forced to introduce herself.

She has not run this plan by Nicole, whose mantra has always been that Waverly should wait as long as she wants. As such, Nicole’s face lights up as it always does when she sees Waverly, but there is a hint of a question in her expression too. All the same, it is pretty obvious when the woman standing to Nicole’s right catches the rather smitten look that passes over Nicole’s face.

Nicole turns to her friends to say goodbye.

“I’m going to head off now, you guys have a good rest of the day.”

“Ugh, seminars with Lindley,” says the man. He is short with a sweet face and earnest brown eyes. “So I doubt it, but thank you.”

The woman wrinkles her nose as if in agreement. “I have so many test results to deal with. Can’t wait to qualify and get paid a proper wage to do the exact same work I’m doing now.”

“That’s the dream,” the man says mildly before looking between Waverly and Nicole with an expression that is half expectant, half apologetic. “Sorry, ignore us whining.”

“It’s okay,” Waverly says, “for what it’s worth I feel the same.”

The man smiles before looking at Nicole, who immediately sees it as a request to make introductions. Waverly watches a slight look of indecision pass over Nicole’s face.

“So, this is Jeremy and Rosita. I told you about them the other day?” she says, voice lilting gently into a question as she seeks for Waverly’s confirmation that she has correctly put two and two together. Waverly smiles in what she hopes is an encouraging way. Still looking unsure, Nicole turns back to her friends, speaking slowly. “And guys, this is…”

Knowing that Nicole will likely err on the side of caution, Waverly jumps in.

“I’m Waverly,” she says, trying not to sound too nervous. “Nicole’s girlfriend.”

A look of surprise chases the concern from Nicole’s face, and is in turn replaced by an expression of pure happiness. It is the first time Waverly has seen that look on Nicole in this context, and she decides there and then that it is worth all the adversity in the world.

Neither of Waverly’s new acquaintances bats an eyelid at the announcement, and their reaction - or lack, thereof - bolsters Waverly immensely.

She is greeted warmly and quizzed soundly on the basics: where did she meet Nicole?; does she live in the city?; does she study here?

Waverly does her best ‘small talk’ routine and the little group splits in two moments later. Waverly reaches for Nicole’s hand as they walk away together.

 _See? It was as simple as that_ , a little voice in Waverly’s head pipes up. Waverly feels herself smiling and, glancing upwards, catches Nicole doing the same.

“It was okay that I told them, right?” Waverly asks and Nicole nods emphatically.

“Of _course_. I’m just happy that you wanted to.”

From then on, they see Rosita and Jeremy a little more. The meetings are infrequent because Waverly and Nicole have so little time together, but are always enjoyable nonetheless. Both of their new friends are easy to talk to, albeit somewhat different people on the surface. At their cores, however, they are both sweet-hearted and kind, so this is probably why they work.

When the group does not go out together, Nicole and Waverly continue exploring the city together. It is a good way for Nicole to increase her knowledge of the area, and for Waverly to make the best of a place she has somewhat taken for granted in the past. When they can, they visit popular tourist attractions or try out well-reviewed restaurants. And as summer slowly wanes, they duck into a museum or movie theatre if they have an entire afternoon at their disposal.

In particular, visiting museums or cultural exhibitions becomes a tradition that begins long before Waverly meets Rosita and Jeremy. It has its genesis thanks to Nicole, who still seems to enjoy arranging outings with Waverly in mind. She had made a particular effort one Wednesday in early September, having planned a pre-birthday treat for Waverly, who would be in Purgatory on the day itself.

In many ways, it had been no shock to Waverly when Nicole presented her with a gift of two tickets to a temporary (and _expensive_ ) exhibition on ancient civilisations. Waverly had not forgotten how Nicole arranged an almost private viewing of the Acropolis, how she seemed to love watching Waverly amongst the relics of the past. Instead, the real surprise had come from the other present Nicole had organised, which had come complete with some ostentatiously sparkly but utterly wonderful rainbow wrapping paper. Waverly carefully peeled it back and found herself face-to-face with an object that was distantly familiar. It had taken her a moment to work out why...

“Oh my God,” she whispered when the answer came to her. “This is from…”

Utterly speechless and completely aware that her mouth is gaping, she darted her gaze up from her present to look at Nicole.

“It is,” Nicole confirmed, wearing a pleased little smile.

“You went back…?”

“I did.”

“And you saved it for…?”

“Nearly killed me to wait, but yes.”

Waverly ran her fingers over the object and recalls the day she first laid eyes on it.

She and Nicole must only have been together for a week - perhaps two at a push - and were killing time in the afternoon as they waited to meet Wynonna for a few drinks at her work. Not for the first time, they had ducked into the bustle of the Montastiraki Flea Market because the array of stalls seemed to change their wares so often it felt as though the place was always being rearranged. There was always something to see and it provided a perfect distraction.

Among some of the tourist traps and mass-produced or knock-off items, there was a small cluster of stalls run by antique sellers, like the best little outdoor thrift shop Waverly had ever seen.

It was there that Waverly had been particularly taken with an old hand mirror with a gleaming brass handle and a white and floral enamel back panel. It was a purely aesthetic fascination; Waverly had no real use for one because she had a large wall mirror in her room. All she same, she could picture how lovely it would look on her dresser alongside her jewellery box (which was of a similar pattern) and toiletries. Plus, her mother had had a hand mirror just like it. Waverly could remember sitting on Michelle Earp’s lap as a child, fascinated by all her makeup and lotions and perfumes; but she had loved her mother’s mirror best of all. It was old and ornate like the one in Greece, because it had been passed down a line of Gibson women - but it had never found its way back to Gus after Michelle left. It was probably still somewhere in the vacant, dilapidated husk of the Earp homestead, but Waverly had never been able to find it and, as a general rule, she avoided the house as much as possible.

In Greece, however, she had spent long minutes at that particular stall, half-tempted to buy this other mirror but determined that she did not need it and could not justify either the cost of it (it had been priced far too high - all the better for haggling) or the space it might take up in her bag.

At the time, Nicole had waited patiently and had simply told Waverly that if she liked it enough then she should buy it. Waverly had reluctantly turned away, however, and never imagined that Nicole would have paid the mirror a second thought. She certainly never imagined that, while Waverly and Wynonna ran some errands the next morning, Nicole had made her way back to the market and collected the mirror.

“You hid it all the way back home?” Waverly asked weeks later in Calgary, voice still quiet as she struggled for the right words to express what this gesture meant to her.

“I was so scared it would break,” Nicole had said with a laugh. “I don’t know if I believe in curses but I didn’t want to risk the bad luck. Do you still like it?”

Waverly raised her eyebrows in disbelief. “I loved it to begin with, but after this I - I don’t know how to say how special this is to me Nicole.”

“You don’t have to say,” Nicole replied kindly, smiling like she was the one receiving a gift.

They had been out in public, tucked in the corner of a little cafe, but even then Waverly had leant in and kissed Nicole anyway.

Looking back weeks later, Waverly realises that this is the moment she knew that she had found something special.

 

 

 

 

 

 

In spite of such moments of dazzling happiness, however, the universe retains some sort of balance in the time that follows because time in the city is something of a wonder for Waverly, but life in Purgatory only becomes more frustrating.

Waverly misses Nicole when they are apart, but there is more still to grapple with. She finds herself less and less happy to call into work, because Champ seems to install himself in _Shorty’s_ with increasing frequency. It starts after that one, awkward interaction at the bar, but Waverly takes a little while longer to really put two and two together. At first, she thinks that Champ is just being difficult. Eventually, however, she makes the connection between his behaviour and the blooming town rumour that she has taken up with someone from Greece.

With a bit of hindsight, Waverly realises that, Champ has never before had cause to believe that Waverly might have found someone else. The few hookups that had occurred after him and before Nicole were all at college - they were temporary things or drunken exchanges that never made it back to Purgatory with her.

The longer she turns the whole thing over in her mind, the more Waverly sees that she has underestimated the extent to which Champ believed that they would, eventually, get back together. After all, she had always taken him back before, so she supposes in part that she has made a rod for her own back. Now that Champ seemed to think that their eventual reunion was under threat, he was reacting in the only way he knew: by being clingy and persistent.

Waverly realises all at once that Champ had been holding a candle all this time, and from his point of view it was just now starting to flicker dangerously in the breeze.

What Champ does not know, however, is that any light between them had been snuffed out (in Waverly’s mind, at least) a long time ago. Even if this had not been the case from the moment things ended, Nicole would have easily pinched the flame between two fingers and not even singed her skin. Waverly knows that she wants it all with Nicole, and she had never once thought of a life with Champ in the same way.

With the gossip about Waverly’s love life flowing freely and Champ’s persistent presence at the bar, Purgatory starts to feel more and more like a room with the walls closing in. In search of solidarity, Waverly finds herself speaking about this with increasing frequency during her video calls with Wynonna. Her sister manages to say _I told you so_ without making it sound remotely smug or condescending.

Wynonna had simply known this time would come eventually and says one night: _I always knew you’d outgrow that place babygirl. It’s not good enough for you anyway_.

So, as October closes and November begins, Waverly finds herself throwing caution to the wind more and more.

She leaves for the city often - starting out early and returning late - and never really has a decent excuse for what she has been doing for so long. She says she is studying, and to a degree this is true, but she has never left Purgatory so often to do her required reading. On one occasion, she even suggests to Gus the possibility of her staying over in the city to get some work done.

She notes the sideways glances Gus throws her, the way her aunt evidently does not quite believe that Waverly’s days in the city are so unremarkable that she has nothing to report at all. If Waverly stopped to think about it, she might note that her aunt looks worried, but Waverly feels too guilty to consider any of it for too long.

In fact, she finds herself growing quieter and quieter when she is in Purgatory. It is like she is scared to open her mouth because her feelings for Nicole are as powerful as a waterfall and she is worried that the truth could flow from her at any moment. As a result, when she does not go to the city or meet up with Chrissy Nedley for fries at the diner - an old childhood habit they have maintained - then she mostly keeps to herself. She works and she studies and she often carts herself off for a solitary walk to try and organise her thoughts.

She simply cannot help but feel as though she needs the time out, because there is so much to think about as the days pass. By now, it has been months since she and Nicole first admitted their feelings for each other.

Deep down, Waverly knows that this is the honeymoon period, but there are enough portents of good that she does not worry. Because really, she and Nicole just get on. They make each other laugh and smile, and if one of them is stressed and maybe a little snappy (mostly this is Waverly, when she buckles under the stress and irritation of Champ and of Purgatory in general), they are communicative and apologetic and they don’t hold grudges. This ability to simply forgive and move on has mostly been from Nicole who, even when stressed, is apparently much better at self-regulation and separating her training from their relationship.

And if Nicole’s primary foible is that she is naturally inclined to keeping her worries and strains to herself, Waverly can see that she really, really tries to break her old habits whenever they speak. Waverly has simply learned that, if in doubt, it is best to ask twice.

_Are you okay?_

_Yeah, I’m fine love._

**_Nicole_ ** _. Are you okay?_

_Yeah, I promise I am now, but I’ve just had a bad day because…_

Nicole wants to keep people safe, but she is learning that this means more than keeping them ignorant to the bad stuff that might sometimes crop up.

By now, whenever Waverly thinks about their relationship, she starts thinking on a grander scale. She looks ahead to more than just the next short visit to the city. She starts fantasising about a time when they might be able to take a weekend trip elsewhere. She pictures the two of them in a little more than a month’s time as they get ready for Christmas. She imagines them doing mundane tasks like buying groceries or making the bed ( _their bed_ ); she imagines the hand mirror taking a place on a dresser in _their_ bedroom…

When she is stuck in Purgatory, Waverly thinks and thinks and thinks and all roads lead to one obvious conclusion: she is heart-stoppingly, mind-bogglingly, overwhelmingly in love.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

Their first opportunity to play at a relationship that was not conducted in afternoon-sized portions comes at the very beginning of November, almost two months after Waverly’s birthday.

She takes a Friday trip to the city, partly to see Nicole but partly too for school. She needs to return some library books to avoid a fine, and is keen to try and snag a copy of an anthology that seems to be perpetually checked out by first-year undergrads. She had been told by her tutor that she was to start shadowing some of the regular staff, and could expect to start supervising a few easy seminars by the Spring. As much as she needs the book for her own research, it would also be good to brush up on the stuff she was being taught nearly five years ago.

Fall had brought an unwelcome rainy snap, and Waverly has to dodge showers and sidestep dirty puddles on the sidewalk on her way to meet Nicole for lunch.

According to an earlier text, Nicole’s afternoon classes had all been cancelled owing to a sick teacher (the damp weather had brought about a slew of bugs and viruses that they were both desperate to avoid). Since all of Nicole’s practical work currently took place mid-week, she had an unexpected but entirely welcome free afternoon.

At this news, Waverly had all but rushed to finish her notes and pack her laptop away. In truth, she could probably have done with studying a little longer, but entire afternoons with Nicole were rare and she would be able to make up the lost time at the weekend.

She meets Nicole just long enough for a brief kiss before her phone starts ringing and, coincidentally, another downpour begins.

The two of them slip their hoods over their heads and make quickly for their current favourite cafe - a well-priced little vegan place hidden down a backroad, with dishes that even Nicole as an apologetic but unwavering omnivore enjoyed.

Walking fast, Waverly answers her phone.

“Gus, hey. Everything okay?” Waverly asks, praying that Shorty has not asked that they both come into work tonight.

“Not entirely,” Gus says, sounding brisk and unimpressed but not as though she is about to deliver entirely catastrophic news.

“Is it the bar?” Waverly asks, sharing a look of apprehension with Nicole. “Or Silvia?”

This is Shorty’s wife, whose health had been steadily improving but was still not entirely out of the woods yet.

“No, no nothing like that. Just this blasted rain,” Gus says rather cryptically.

“Yeah, it just started hammering down here too. I was on my way to get some lunch.”

“Half the roads here have flooded,” Gus goes on, sounding worried. “They think the buses won’t get back in if the rain keeps up. Curtis wants to know if you want him to set out in the truck now to get you.”

“ _No_.”

Waverly’s reaction is instantaneous and equal parts selfless and selfish. She knows what the country roads out in the Ghost River Triangle get like in the rain or snow; she knows how many people get injured or killed for driving when they shouldn’t. She glances up at the pewter clouds above them, thinking that the weather is only going to get worse. There is no way she wants her uncle leaving town now.

Besides, something tells her that Nicole would be delighted to have Waverly stay a night or perhaps even two, and these literal clouds might as well have a wonderful silver lining.

Gus, however, does not know that this is Waverly’s line of thought.

“Sweetheart, if he leaves now it should be f-”

“No way. ‘Should be fine’ isn’t worth it. I’ll call up the bus company later, and if it’s a no-go then I’ll stay here. I’m not having Curtis drive out in this for no reason.”

Sounding unconvinced, Gus asks, “well, will you stay in a hotel? It’s going to be expensive and Curtis is willing to set out and take a look at how bad it is.”

“I’ll find a cheap room maybe,” Waverly says, although she has no intention of looking. Her response immediately piques Nicole’s attention as, sopping wet, they finally make it to the cafe and step out of the rain. “Or someone here will put me up for a night, I’m sure of it.”

She smiles as Nicole pulls an earnest, hopeful kind of expression.

“Well, make sure you phone the bus company first, won’t you?”

“I will, I promise. Love you Gus.”

“Love you sweetheart.”

And while it is true that Waverly loves her aunt with all her heart, she wills the rain to keep falling and fortuitously the elements comply. As she and Nicole sit at a window seat and eat a leisurely lunch, water pours over the glass in steady, unceasing rivulets. New alerts for adverse conditions start up on their phones, and the bus company puts a notice up on their seldom-used Facebook page to say that certain routes will be unserviced until further notice. Waverly’s is among them, and she and Nicole cannot help but celebrate when they see the update.

“I’ve never been happier to see it rain so much,” Nicole says sweetly, stealing a cold fry off Waverly’s plate.

Waverly can only agree wholeheartedly with her.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Their first instinct, though perhaps rather typical and certainly slightly carnal, is to escape the bad weather and make a trip back to Nicole’s apartment. The intention is to lose themselves to each other for as long as they want, because they no longer have to count down the minutes today.

After they are sated (for the moment, at least), they lay in Nicole’s bed in peaceful silence and watch the light fade slowly from the room. Nicole runs her fingers through Waverly’s hair, occasionally grazing her scalp in a delicious way that makes Waverly shiver.

Having only singular days together had put a squeeze on the time they could spend being soft, and slow, and _intimate_. Of course, they had given the odd afternoon over to simply holing up in Nicole’s bedroom, but could only really do so when Nicole did not have classes to attend later in the day. Even when they had an uninterrupted afternoon to themselves, however, there was always the thought of the eight o’clock bus in the backs of their minds, meaning that they never quite relaxed entirely.

Today, however, they do not even have to think of it at all. Indeed, Waverly’s mind is occupied with something entirely different.

She is feeling brave today, perhaps on account of having more or less admitted to Gus that there is something - or rather, _someone_ \- calling her into the city for longer stretches of time. She knows that her aunt has been wondering and, well, now she knows. Or, at the very least, she knows part of it. It feels as though the rest will follow almost organically.

With this newfound boldness all but brimming over, Waverly breaks the silence and says,

“Can I say something weird? And probably a bit forward.”

Nicole chuckles, sounding sleepy and content. “Course.”

“Do you ever think about how, when you’re dating someone there’s only two options?”

“How do you mean?”

“Well, either one day you’ll break up or this is like, your person for life.”

Nicole hums, sounding cautious and a little uncertain. “I mean, I’d never pictured it like that before but sure, I guess it usually goes one of those two ways. Why do you mention it?”

“I don’t know really, I guess I’ve just been thinking about it a bit recently.”

Nicole’s fingers glide through Waverly’s hair again, and when she speaks the gesture is intended as part of the question.

“In this context - like, the context of us - or?”

Waverly feels a little of that bravery from earlier fade, fear scratching at her from beneath her skin. She had wanted to admit something to Nicole, something about how she was feeling, but now the moment had come she almost wanted to back out, not least because Nicole sounded so apprehensive.

“Well, yeah.” There is, after all, no one else in Waverly’s life that she could be thinking about.

“And is it in like, a break-up way or a uh...the other one?”

“Oh!” Waverly says, feeling a wave of embarrassment sweep over her and colour her face red. It had not even occurred to her how the conversation must have sounded to Nicole. Her reaction makes sense; suddenly seems so obvious. “God, no. The other one. Definitely the other one.”

From beside her, she feels Nicole exhale. She hadn’t even realised that Nicole had been holding her breath.

Nicole laughs, sounding relieved. “Okay, good. Because I gotta be honest Waves, you were starting to scare me then.”

Waverly groans and covers her face with both hands, curling up slightly as though that will somehow take the attention off her blunder. “I’m an _idiot_. In my head, this was gonna be so much more romantic.”

Still laughing, Nicole’s hands find Waverly’s waist. She pulls her closer for a hug as if she is saying ‘no harm done’.

The heat of Nicole’s bare skin envelopes Waverly in the most comforting of ways, but she remains curled in on herself in embarrassment, palms still pressed over her face. They muffle her words when she speaks again.

“That was like, the worst attempt anyone’s ever made to tell someone they love them, wasn’t it?”

At this, Nicole freezes again. For the umpteenth time, Waverly wonders why she had not had the sense to plan out her words better.

“You what?” Nicole says, caught unawares and completely unable to hide her surprise.

Immediately, the heat between them shifts and Waverly almost feels as though she has a temperature, like she is one more blunder away from breaking out in a cold sweat.

“I know it’s early days. And I’m like, really really bad at this stuff; I feel like I’ve pretty much always lost everyone I’ve ever loved and it kind of makes me scared to love anyone at all now.”

She takes a deep breath. By now, Nicole knows all the ugly Earp truths about Michelle and Ward and Willa. She knows why Wynonna was always moving and never gathering moss. She knows how Waverly connected her own love with the losses in her life. And, because she is her soft, kind, _wonderful_ self, Nicole had assured Waverly that it was okay, that it was okay if she struggled with certain parts of their relationship, but that she, Nicole, was not going anywhere.

Waverly goes on. “But since I’m still trying to pick my moment with my aunt and uncle, I seem to be thinking more than ever. Like, thinking about us and what I want. Obviously, I’d already decided that - if it’s okay with you - I don’t want to be commuting back and forth forever to see you. And I guess I just got stuck on that word. ‘Forever’. That made me realise some stuff, like...well…”

“Like that you love me?” Nicole murmurs, voice awed and slightly pensive.

“Yeah,” Waverly whispers, voice faltering slightly as she wonders whether she has misread things between them entirely. Perhaps Nicole does not want all the Earp baggage forever. Perhaps she does not want the oppressive Purgatory air and the girl who has still, _still_ , not told her family she is dating a woman.

Hearing the quiver in Waverly’s voice, Nicole sighs softly. “ _Hey_ , c’mon.”

She shifts backwards slightly, just enough to fix her hands at Waverly’s wrists and tug gently in a little request for Waverly to look at her. In truth, Waverly had all but forgotten that she was still hiding behind her fingers, but she still resists for a moment before letting Nicole win.

When Waverly blinks a few spots of darkness away, she finds Nicole’s watching her ever so carefully.

“Firstly,” Nicole says, her voice weighty, “of _course_ it’s alright with me that you don’t want to commute forever. I want you to feel that you’re welcome here. And secondly,” she says, dropping her voice and then leaning in to press a gentle, fleeting kiss to Waverly’s lips. When she pulls back, she keeps their faces close. “ _I love you too_.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

They pass the rest of their time together in the perfect picture of domesticity. They emerge from bed a while later, having let their hands and lips and tongues wander once more, and potter about in an odd mix of their underwear and Nicole’s pyjamas.

Waverly is going to have to borrow clothes and at some point they will need to head out again to buy her a toothbrush, but there is no hurry.

It might be the sweetest thought either of them has ever had.

Nicole tells Waverly to make herself at home, and disappears off into the kitchen for a moment. Waverly scratches a long-standing itch and sets up Nicole’s grandmother’s record player.

Nicole brings them tea and, as Waverly has imagined countless times recently, they cuddle up together on the couch and let the mingled sounds of music and rainfall wash over them as they sip their drinks.

Without bothering to watch the time, they dress again when they are hungry and brave the weather for a trip to a small convenience store around the corner. They wheel a cart around the aisles because it feels domestic, rather than because they need a large volume of items.

They pick up a toothbrush and Nicole suggests that Waverly buy her favourite brands of shampoo and soap, which is about as symbolic a gesture as their use of a shopping cart. Nicole does not say it, but she is telling Waverly to store some items at the apartment for future use. They are playing at being domestic for the night, simply because it was what they both want for themselves in the future. Nicole picks up the ingredients for dinner because she usually cooks in batches and Waverly cannot eat what has been put in the freezer, and adds a nice bottle of wine for good measure.   

A while later, Waverly learns that Nicole can _cook_ when they eat a vegetable curry sat side-by-side in front of the television, watching the first movie on _Netflix_ that takes their fancy.

Gus checks in with Waverly a couple of times throughout the evening, and Waverly does her best to remain patient by reminding herself that her aunt does not know that there is no reason to worry over Waverly’s accommodation situation.

They sip at their wine and wash the dishes together when the food is finished, Waverly flicking soap suds across the kitchen at Nicole just for the fun of it. When they return back to the living room, they watch trashy romcoms back-to-back, drinking enough wine that they feel a tiny kick from it. They have sex on the couch, because even though the bedroom is _right there_ this is their space and their time, and they can use them both however they damn well please.

The rain continues to fall and block the roads well into Saturday morning, and even after it abates at lunchtime it is not until Sunday that the bus company is given the all-clear to start transporting passengers out towards the Rockies again.

Neither Waverly nor Nicole has a single complaint at the bus’ slow progress. Neither of them has ever been happier.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

The bump back to reality comes as soon as Waverly walks through Gus and Curtis’ front door on Sunday afternoon.

She is already aware that she has probably now pushed the secrecy a little too far by suddenly acknowledging that she has a previously unmentioned acquaintance willing to put her up in the city for two nights.

Waverly had made friends on both her undergraduate and masters courses, but most had left for work or travelling or further study. Gus and Curtis were well aware of this, and Waverly knew they would ask questions now.

She had not really thought of what she might say (she knew an easy possibility was to simply call Nicole her friend from travelling) and this was perhaps a sure sign that she was ready just to get this somewhat oppressive coming out process over and done with.

And, as soon as she steps into the living room, she knows she has walked right into an intervention.

Gus is settled uneasily on the couch and stands as soon as Waverly enters. Curtis’ eyes dart between the two women uneasily but, as is his way, he says nothing.

Gus’ greeting is perfunctory and merely a means to an end, because as soon as Waverly has dropped her bag next to her armchair, her aunt says,

“Can we talk to you for a moment?”

“I just got in,” Waverly says gently, but relents when she notes that Gus looks a little desperate. Sitting down in her chair, Waverly adds, “yeah, sure. What’s up?”

She knows what’s up, of course she does, but this is all about buying time and thinking through what she might say.

“We feel,” Gus begins, before pausing. Looking guilty, she glances across at Curtis and immediately changes tack, “ _I_ feel - and your uncle is willing to at least ask the question too - that there’s something bothering you; something you’re not talking to us about. I’m not here to force you into a corner sweetheart. I’m here to say that if I’m right, no matter what is going on with you, if it’s school or work or somebody here being difficult and making you want to stay away from town, we’re still your aunt and uncle. It doesn’t matter if you’re five or fifty-five. I don’t like the idea that you can’t come to us. I don’t like feeling like you’re running away from here.”

Gus stops talking abruptly and surreptitiously glances at Curtis for guidance or perhaps back-up. In a way that Waverly is sure Gus does not approve of at the given moment, Curtis remains impassive and, as per usual, entirely silent.

There is a moment in which Waverly considers denying it. In a pinch she could even say it was her PhD stressing her out. But it was pointless. The parts of her demeanour that had clued Gus into her secret would not change if she continued separating her lives in a way that made her feel duplicitous and guilty. She had to put her trust in her aunt and uncle to support her no matter what.

This was it, she had to do it now.

She casts about for something to say, opening her mouth and shutting it once before trying a second time, at which point words start cascading forth completely without any forethought from Waverly’s brain. By the looks on her family’s faces, it is clear they do not have the first clue what she is trying to say.

In truth, neither does Waverly when she first begins.

“Do you know how, when we I was a teenager, some kids would start putting ‘what if’ tests on their folks?” Waverly asks, unsurprised when both Gus and Curtis look blank. “Like, people would say to their parents ‘would you still love me if…’ and it was stuff like ‘if I came home pregnant?’ or ‘if I got arrested?’ And it was always hypothetical stuff but, for some reason, there was just a phase where people did it. Then, often, one of the other tests - and it was mostly girls that did it, because I think the boys were too scared to put ideas into their father’s heads - was ‘what if I was a lesbian, would you love me then?’”

Waverly pauses again and Gus nods. “I remember. You’re right, kids seem to have that phase. Always, the parents had the same discussions around the bar. ‘Do you think she _is_ pregnant? She has been close with that boy’, that sort of stuff.”

“But I didn’t, did I?” Waverly says quietly, “I never remember asking you that stuff.”

“You didn’t, no,” Gus confirms.

“I think it was because it was different for me. As far as I know, the kids in my grade are all their parents’ _biological_ kids. But, with me and ‘Nonna it was like - if it had been too much, technically you _could_ have said ‘no’. I know you’d never - but it was more like you chose us. I guess as a kid I figured, like, if something like that would make you not love me, you wouldn’t have chosen to keep me. Plus, it kind of never felt relevant to me. As a kid I saw what happened to Wynonna enough to know I’d never get in trouble, it scared me to see what she went through. I had _no_ intention for kids. I uh, I knew I...um, liked boys. What was the point of asking, you know?”

“Waverly, I…”

“I’m getting there, I swear,” Waverly says, thinking that she didn’t actually know for sure if she was getting _there_. “My point is, I never played the game. I never got the reassurance of where your lines were, or if you even had any lines. Of course, the way you raised me was pretty much all about unconditional love. But it doesn’t change the fact that I still never kinda got to have the conversation and now the not knowing is really, really scary.”

She casts a quick, pleading look around the room, hoping that Gus and Curtis pick up on what she is asking for in the most painfully cryptic way possible.

“It would always have gone the same way, a conversation like that,” Curtis says quietly from his armchair, eyes distant and focussed across the room on, perhaps, nothing at all. “None of that would have mattered. It wouldn’t have changed how much I love you or, I think, how much your aunt loves you.”

Quickly, earnestly, Gus shakes her head. “Of course not sweetheart.”

By now, Waverly’s heart is making a valiant attempt to beat clean through her shirt, but she has come too far to back out of this incredibly convoluted, roundabout way of coming out to her family.

“So, I’m guessing you probably know which one of the above I’m about to drop on you…”

“Well you’re not in trouble with the law,” Gus says quickly, offering no justification for her certainty, but sounding unwavering nonetheless. “I don’t think this can be about a baby, but you also said…”

She trails off here, clearly having thought out loud and immediately come to a dead end.

“That I uh, I was certain I liked boys,” Waverly says, fixing her eyes resolutely on her lap, where she has set her hands. Her fingers twist back and forth over each other, muscles clenched so tight her skin is white in places. “I still am. I got that right and I always knew it. But what I didn’t know until later was that it wasn’t...um, it wasn’t _just_ them. It was, well, everyone. All genders, I mean. Not just everyone indiscriminately. Obviously.”

“Girls too,” Gus states. Her voice is calm, easy. There is no judgement or reservation there, only a sense that she is confirming her understanding of where this is going. The McCreadys simply did not do crossed wires or miscommunication, although the three of them so rarely fell out that it hardly cropped up anyway.

Waverly chances a glance up at her aunt before flicking her eyes immediately downwards again. There is nothing negative on Gus’ face, nothing whatsoever to be afraid of.

“Yes, girls too. So I’m not a lesbian but I’m um, I suppose I’m seeing one? Well, I don’t suppose. I am. Definitely.” Even in spite of the seriousness of the moment, of Waverly’s aversion to being the centre of attention in this specific way, she cannot help but smile slightly at the thought of Nicole.

No matter what happens now, Waverly will be on the phone to Nicole in a few minutes. She will be able to tell her girlfriend that they are not a secret anymore.

Nicole will still love her no matter what, and she will be proud of Waverly for doing this, whatever the outcome may be.

There is a pause in the room, pregnant and tangible but definitely not _bad_.

“You’re seeing someone?” Gus asks in that same, businesslike tone.

“Yes.”

“Is this the first time after Champ?”

Glossing over a few hookups that definitely do not count as _seeing someone_ in the way her aunt means, Waverly nods.

“Yes.”

Gus’ tone shifts, but this time Waverly cannot read into it. “So, you’re seeing someone who’s not Champ, who is also a girl.”

“Yes.”

“And does this girl - does she have any more _differences_ to Champ...besides her gender?”

This time, the smile is evident in Gus’ voice, so evident in fact that Waverly whips her head up and meets her aunt’s eye. She is smiling, wry and slightly playful. She is _teasing_.

Waverly almost feels her whole body deflate in relief, like there had been a hot air balloon beneath her skin, taut and tense with undirected nervous energy.

By the end of Waverly’s relationship with Champ, neither Gus nor Curtis had been able to support it. Of course they supported Waverly emotionally, but they struggled to hold back their anger at him. His infidelity became so well-known and so well-documented that it started reaching back even to the McCreadys, and no one in their position could reasonably be anything but furious to discover that their child was being maligned in such a way.

Curtis, especially, took it hard. Probably it was something macho, something to do with honour and men and goodness knew what. But, more than that, Curtis had tried to take Champ under his wing, tried to provide him with some work when all Champ had was his damn rodeos and his drinking buddies and his video game tournaments. Curtis had welcomed him in - man-to-man, or something equally mysterious to Waverly and Gus - and Champ had hurt Curtis’ girl. Curtis didn’t anger outwardly, but it was clear that he was furious on the inside.

It hits Waverly then, how unnecessarily she had worried. Gus and Curtis had seen Waverly try to fix a relationship where she had been completely devalued by a partner. All they want to know now, it would seem, is whether Nicole would do a better job.

“Yes,” Waverly says, feeling some strange mixture of emotions bubbling close to the surface; a humorous chuckle mixed with impending tears of relief. She thinks of all the things Champ was, and realises for the first time that Nicole truly is his antithesis in every possible way. “She’s the opposite of him. She’s loyal and kind; she’s funny and _definitely_ smart; she works hard and she dreams big and...she’s...good to me. She cares about me.”

At this, Gus lets out a sigh of relief that takes Waverly completely aback,

_After all this, how can her aunt be the relieved one?_

“Well, thank God,” Gus says. “Look, I know we’re all modern here and you don’t _need_ to be dating anyone but I was starting to worry. It had been such a long time after Champ, and the way he behaved - well, we don’t need me getting into that again. But you’ve always had such a big heart, such a lot of love in you sweetheart, and I didn’t want to think that his actions were holding you back. Or that this place was holding you back. But it was Greece, wasn’t it? I’m not trying to pry, but it must have been.”

Of course it would be her aunt that put two and two together immediately.

“It was,” Waverly confirms, but she has something more pressing to ask first. “So, you’re really not bothered? Not shocked? Did you know this whole time?”

“Well of course not honey,” Gus says, pitching her voice up as if all of these options were an absurd idea. “I had no idea, but even to us small town folk it’s not _always_ the craziest notion. I do watch my soaps you know.”

Waverly laughs, she cannot help it. There is so much affection in her for her aunt at the best of times, but right now it is bubbling over. _Of course_ Gus would bring it back to those soaps. There had been a female couple in one of the storylines recently. Waverly hadn’t even considered that.

With relief and joy slowly seeping through her now - _her aunt still loves her! Better still, she is supporting her!_ \- she turns her eyes to Curtis who, typically, has remained silent throughout the entire exchange. She is pretty sure he wouldn’t watch those soaps for all the money in the world, although he had never been particularly money-orientated anyway.

What frame of reference did _he_ have? Still calm, he meets Waverly’s eye.

“You and Wynonna,” he says slowly and carefully, “you’ve been my girls since I first set eyes on you. You know your aunt and I, we never planned for kids. But the world had other ideas, and hell you know I’m sad for the loss of your momma and your daddy, but I’ll always be grateful we got you both.”

He stops speaking, visibly steeling himself for something big. Curtis didn’t talk all that much, but when he did it was usually for something significant; something exactly like this conversation.

Waverly feels herself draw in a breath and it shudders in her ribcage. There are tears in her eyes, but no reasonable explanation as to why she feels such a sudden, gripping need to shed them. Then, her uncle speaks again and Waverly finds she has every reason to cry.

“Honey, do you remember when you first came to us? Because to be honest, I’m not sure you _do_ remember what I want to tell you. For a good year after you came to live here, it was like you _knew_ the responsibility it took to take in two little girls. You couldn’t have understood it I don’t think, Lord knows you were just small, but it was like you wouldn’t settle. I can only compare it to the way kids behave when their friends have them round the first few times. You were quiet, polite, always seen and never heard. At first your aunt and I, well we thought it was because of all you’d seen. You’d grown up with us around you, so you knew us; it would get better, that’s what I told myself. Your aunt worried, I said you needed time. Time passed and _I_ started to worry, which worried Gus even more.

“Then, we went to our first parents’ evening. Old Mrs Peters, she said something similar. Said you mentioned us a lot, like you were trying to be extra good just for us. Again, you probably won’t remember this. But it almost felt like, even at - what? - five, six years old, you were trying to repay us for something. What you probably _do_ remember was that, at that age, you wanted to be a teacher. Mrs Peters said you had it in your head that you thought we’d be happy if you did a job like that, just as much as you yourself liked the idea of it. And I didn’t say it out loud, I’ve never said this out loud to anyone before, but I remember thinking there and then that I didn’t care what you did or what you became so long as you were happy. I didn’t care if you were a teacher or a waitress or, hell, I don’t know, a struggling artist who didn’t earn a bean until she painted a masterpiece at forty. I didn’t even care if you never painted the masterpiece. I didn’t care if you were an alien or one of our Lord’s damn angels, not if you were _happy_.”

At this, Curtis pauses. He had never been a man of very many words. He did not enter into conversation often, and usually he would offer little more than a wordless noise to answer a question _yes_ or _no_. But when something mattered, when he had something important to say, it would come out in these long, carefully considered, and often profound speeches. They were rare, however, and more infrequent as he aged. Nonetheless, when they happened they would start as anecdote that, the listener would decide, had nothing to do with the topic at hand. After her long-winded coming out speech, Waverly wonders if she is inheriting the habit from her uncle.

Because, although Curtis McCready would have everyone around him believe otherwise, he was an astute man with a kind heart and a good head on his shoulders. Everyone who had ever listened to one of these speeches knew he would make sense eventually.

He only lapses into silence for a moment before he continues.

“Now, I’ll admit. I’m an old-fashioned man from a place where, I think, we’re all a little too backwards sometimes. I never had this thought when you were a child and considered it might mean something other than your job or a life choice. I never thought it might be about who you _are_. But it all means the same thing to me now. After all you’ve been through Waverly, you deserve the life you want. Do you want a life with this girl?”

Tears hot on her cheeks, Waverly nods silently.

“And she’s good to you? Better than that toerag?” Curtis adds, nodding his head towards the window as if Champ were somehow out in the allotment amongst the tomatoes.

Another nod from Waverly, who tries ineffectually to dry her face with the sleeves of her shirt.

Curtis nods back, as if to say _well that’s that then_. “That’s enough for me. Well, for now. In the interests of gender equality I will be grilling her later and giving her the ‘if you hurt my girl’ talk. She’ll just have to deal with that.”

Beside her on the couch, Gus tuts at the joke but Waverly laughs. The sound is weak and watery but it is, above all else, genuine. She should have expected her uncle to say something like that. She also fully believes that Nicole will, one day soon, get a Talk from her uncle. He is old-fashioned like that, but no doubt worse now for all that Champ put Waverly through.

“I do have some questions now,” Curtis adds, eyes twinkling merrily. He had never been especially adept at dealing with tears, but he knew how to put people at ease in other ways. “But you take a moment girl, you need it.”

“I’m sorry,” Waverly says, voice high as she tries to speak. “I don’t even know why I’m crying.”

As is often the case, these words are followed by another little downpour, and Waverly feels Gus’ hand at her back, steady and supportive. It grounds her, and the relief dries up into a better, less tearful feeling almost immediately. She had needed that out of her system and felt all the better for it.

“Can I ask you just one thing?” Gus says quietly, voice uncertain for the first time. “Something I hope isn’t offensive.”

“Sure,” Waverly says, sniffling and still mopping at her face with now drenched cuffs.

“Have we - ” Gus pauses, and it is so unlike her not to know what she wants to say. “Have we ever done anything to make you feel that you couldn’t tell - it’s just, if this has been since _Greece_ sweetheart, that’s a long time.”

“No,” Waverly says quickly. This is what she had worried about, that her family would be hurt at her secrecy. Nicole might have told her a hundred times that no one was owed this information, but it had been hard for Waverly when she had always been so close, so _open_ , with her aunt and uncle. “It was me. Deep down I believed you’d be okay with it, honest, but I know this goes wrong and surprises people. It’s just so small here, people _talk_. Your friends will - ”

“I don’t care about people,” Gus says kindly.

“I know,” Waverly says. “I hope I haven’t hurt you I just - ”

“The only person this is about is you,” Curtis interjects softly.

“Absolutely,” Gus agrees, her voice emphatic. “You and this girl who seems to make you smile without you even realising.”

Gus grins at Waverly, and Waverly finds herself grinning back. She has so much to share with Gus and Curtis, and she is elated that she has the chance to do so. She truly believes that they will love Nicole, and she cannot wait to bring these two parts of her life together.

Her family must sense this, because Curtis takes this as his chance to begin his good-natured questioning. She knows he is partly parodying this stereotypical father figure routine, but she knows he enjoys looking out for her too.

“So, come on angel. We need details - we need to approve her first. The McCready-Earp club is selective.”

Waverly laughs again, settling on the couch properly now and allowing her body language to open up. She angles herself towards Curtis but leans against Gus.

It is all alright. It is all so, so much better than just alright.

“So, what do you need to know?”

“I’ll start with a name and where she’s from.”

Of course, he wants the family details. That’s par for the course when most people from Purgatory settle with other people from the same place.

“She’s called Nicole. She’s Canadian but not from here. She was born in Toronto.”

“You met someone from Canada out in Greece?” Gus asks suddenly and Waverly knows what she is thinking.

Things between her and Nicole have always felt fated.

“I know,” Waverly says, before choosing to offer more information of her own accord. Her aunt and uncle will ask anyway. “Weird, huh? But it’s weirder because she was taking a gap year before starting some training for her new job. Which she was moving to Calgary for, right after Greece. We actually uh, we flew back together.”

At this admission, she sees the puzzle pieces start to slot into place for both Gus and Curtis.

“Your two-night stay in Calgary with a friend just now?” Gus asks, eyebrows raised. “ _Only because of the buses_?”

“Well in my defence it _was_ because of the buses,” Waverly points out, “but yes, I stayed with her.”

“Your sudden tolerance of those bus journeys you used to hate?” Gus asked, grin growing as she starts teasing Waverly again.

“Nicole, yes.”

“Your sudden consideration of perhaps staying a few nights in the city to use the library…?”

“... _is_ to use the library, yes. Nicole works and studies too. But it is kind of to see her, yeah. To spend some proper time with her.”

“What’s she studying for sweetheart?” Curtis interjects suddenly.

“She’s at the Academy,” Waverly says, feeling a swell of pride she does not initially expect. Of course, the police thing is kind of charged at the moment. But if anyone can embody the principles an officer _should_ follow, then it is surely Nicole. “She’s gonna be a cop.”

“A cop?” Curtis echoes thoughtfully, looking vaguely impressed. “Good vocation.”

Her aunt and uncle are a different generation, they think of cops differently, and Waverly had already suspected that this might be another winning detail for her aunt and uncle. Certainly, they look approving.

In fact, they look truly and genuinely happy for her.

“And, will she be coming to visit?” Gus asks, eyes twinkling merrily. “Since she’s been hosting you this weekend, maybe you ought to repay the favour.”

Feeling like a child who has been given the Christmas gift they have wanted all years, Waverly cannot help but look wide-eyed and delighted.

“Can she? I mean, you’d want to meet her?”

Both Gus and Curtis look completely bemused at the question.

“Of course honey,” Gus says, smiling at the look on Waverly’s face. “You know how it works, if she’s yours she one of us - whether she likes it or not. Does she get free time from all those cop classes?”

“Weekends still, but not for much longer.”

“Well then, you better tell her to reserve one. And tell her I’ll be cooking her dinner,” Gus adds before pausing. “Does she uh, does she eat the same food as you?”

Waverly forces herself to bite back a laugh. Her aunt can talk about Waverly’s bisexuality, about her _girlfriend_ , but she still cannot quite come around to her niece going vegan.

“No Aunt Gus, she doesn’t.”

“So I can cook a chicken?”

“You can cook anything you want, so long as Nicole gets to sit at your table and eat it with us.”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really just so weak for flustered, gay Waverly like the one we see when she first meets Nicole and first tries to kiss Nicole. I live a "oh God, that sounded so much more romantic in my head"-Waverly appreciation life. Also, we love a bad af excuse to pen our girls into the city for a whole weekend...right?
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this and the rest of the chapter. I will actually be on holiday for my best friend's wedding as of Saturday, and am hoping I have both sufficient wifi and time to put the final chapter up. It's unlikely, but if I'm not back next Wednesday please don't think this fic has been abandoned, I /will/ at least be back shortly. 
> 
> Until sometime very soon, take care and I would love to hear your thoughts in the comments below!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this chapter is a week late! I'm so mad at myself because I've never updated a fic late since I started writing for Wynonna, but it just proved unfeasible once I was on my holiday because it was for my best friend's wedding! Yay! Sort of. It was very fun but also kind of stressful.
> 
> Anyway. The chapter was 98% done but I had no chance (and often no connectivity) to edit/tweak/post it. I hate that I missed a deadline, even an arbitrary one that I imposed upon myself. 
> 
> I could have posted this once I got home on Monday but I also have a Thing about keeping to the day I'm meant to be updating. So I hope my new little AU held a place, and that this chapter was somewhat worth the wait. I fear it may not have been, but have no doubt that you'll all let me know.
> 
>  
> 
> **CW: one use of the q word in a derogatory context**

With Gus and Curtis so firmly on her side, Waverly spends the next few days feeling pretty invincible. She excuses herself right away after the conversation with her family ends, rushing to call Nicole and tell her what had transpired.

She cannot keep from growing a little emotional again when she recounts the story, but the tears had already mostly dried up.

Nicole is as delighted at the news as Waverly would have imagined, beaming and congratulating her.

“I’m so proud of you,” Nicole adds plainly. “Doing that is always, always brave.”

“I think you’ve made me braver,” Waverly admits, feeling a little bashful about the confession.

“Oh no,” Nicole says firmly. “No, no. You were always this brave Waverly, and this is your victory to take joy in.”

“My aunt and uncle want to meet you,” Waverly tells her a little while later. “They say you can stay for a weekend, if that’s something you’d want.”

“Of course I want to,” Nicole answers, “although I’m already scared about having to impress them.”

“They’re going to love you as much as I do,” Waverly says, already certain of that. She had always known that if her aunt and uncle were receptive to this relationship, then they would be completely enamoured with Nicole. The hurdle was never them liking Nicole as a person, it was whether they would accept that she is a woman. With that obstacle cleared by an enormous margin, Waverly feels as though she has nothing else to worry about. Even if Champ hadn’t already set the bar as low as possible, Nicole is easygoing like Curtis, bold and straightforward like Gus, and although she wasn’t from the Ghost River Triangle, she seemed to have the same warm-blooded honour that Purgatory’s residents valued above almost all else. She was a perfect fit for the McCreadys, and Waverly couldn’t wait for them to meet her.

“I hope so,” Nicole says quietly, and Waverly is shocked to see just how nervous the thought seems to make her girlfriend. Nicole had been so confident in Greece, so steadfast in her conviction that she could simply up sticks to a new city and make it work (and, of course, she _had_ made it work), so natural as a trainee cop, so wholehearted when it came to love. This is one of the only times that Waverly has seen her look out of her depth. 

It is obvious from her face that Nicole takes the prospect of meeting Gus and Curtis more seriously than Waverly would ever have thought. She wants to reach through the phone and sweep away every one of Nicole’s doubts and fears with the tips of her fingers.

“Trust me, I know them and I know you. I know it’s gonna work out perfectly. But I should probably give you a fair warning: my uncle is definitely going to play the ‘if you hurt my kid’ card on you. He said it was for gender equality.”

This makes Nicole laugh, and although she still looks apprehensive it seems to fade slightly.

“So I had a social with my course group coming up this weekend. It’s just dinner and a bar crawl, so I’ll tell them I’ll be there next time, if your folks are expecting me next week?”

“No, don’t. Gus just said to invite you for _a_ weekend. I don’t want you cancelling your plans for me.” 

Waverly’s answer generates a polite back and forth, in which Nicole says she is happy to cancel and Waverly forbids her from even considering it. She does not want the short distance between them to mean that Nicole cannot have her own life, and she is simply touched that Nicole would even consider cancelling her plans.

“You know I would cancel though, right?” Nicole says, having conceded that it was not entirely unreasonable to wait a little while longer to make a trip to Purgatory.

Admittedly, after their weekend together it now felt like two weeks was far too long to wait to see Nicole again. The difference now, however, is that if Waverly wants to head into the city just to see Nicole, she can do so without a veil of secrecy hanging over her.

All the same, Waverly knows that Shorty has booked her in for a lot of shifts in the coming days, and now that she and Nicole can make more long-term plans, Waverly wants to start saving up. The cost of rent in the city did not come cheap.

After eventually hanging up with Nicole, Waverly calls Wynonna and gives her the same story. It is late over in Europe, but there was no chance that Wynonna would be asleep. She ducks out of a bar to take the call, but it is not one that she once frequented with Waverly and Nicole. Wynonna is not in Athens now, but has instead moved on yet again.

Wherever she is in the world, however, Wynonna always has time for her sister. She listens intently as Waverly gives her a blow-by-blow account of their aunt and uncle’s rather touching words of reassurance.

“You see?” Wynonna says triumphantly, looking delighted and making a point to raise a glass of what appears to be whiskey up in a small salute. “I knew they wouldn’t care They love you so much kid, they were never going to let something like that change things.”

“They love you too Wynonna, just like I do,” Waverly says seriously, and the connection is poor but Waverly does not need to see Wynonna clearly to know that those words always knock her sister sideways.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Can I ask you something?” Gus says, eyes on the road as she drives them into town to open up the bar for what Waverly hopes will be a quiet Tuesday night.

There have been a few conversations like this since Sunday. Gus has been impossibly sweet and somewhat concerned that any question she might ask will inadvertently be offensive or inappropriate

“Always,” Waverly says, just as she has said every time Gus has had a sudden bout of curiosity. Sometimes her aunt has wanted to check something like labels, pronouns, or what it is and isn’t offensive to say ‘these days’. Sometimes she wants to know a little more about Waverly’s experiences. In no way has she yet asked anything that has made Waverly uncomfortable, nor would she ever intend to do so.

“For the time you were keeping things with Nicole to yourself, were you avoiding Purgatory because of...” here, Gus pauses and seems to search for the right words. “Because of what it can be like here?”

Waverly exhales and considers the question. In her mind, she had been getting out of Purgatory because she wanted to see Nicole, but she supposes there had been an element of escape involved too.

“That wasn’t my intention,” Waverly says quietly. “I just wanted to see her. But I suppose it helped, knowing we could just do what we wanted in the city. We can’t be the same here.” Waverly does not say this with any bitterness. She still loves many things about Purgatory, but she has to acknowledge the truth frankly; things are different for them here.

“So you’ll leave, eventually?”

“Gus…” Waverly begins. She has so far avoided this conversation. With Wynonna always absent, she knows her aunt and uncle would miss her if she moved away, but that they would never want to hold Waverly back. In fact, like Wynonna, they had always encouraged her to see more of the world and broaden her horizons.

“No, it’s not like that,” Gus says, her tone honest and direct. “If you leave, I just want you to go because it’s what you want. Of course it makes sense for you to go the city, especially while you’re both studying. There’s so much there for the two of you to experience. I just don’t want you to let the way some people are here make you feel it’s your _only_ choice. There’s always a home here for you, and for Nicole too if that’s the way you see your lives going. You should go see the world for a while, I know you’ll never forget your uncle and I. Besides, the city is only a couple of hours away. It just needs to be what you want.”

“Thank you,” Waverly says, voice quiet. She does not know how to explain to her aunt that, with things like this, it cannot always be about what someone wants in an ideal world. She is pretty sure Robin Jett didn’t want to be all but chased from his hometown for being gay, but small places make some things hard and what you _want_ is whatever is brings about the smoothest course.

In this case, however, all Waverly wants is a relationship with Nicole. She does not especially care where it is conducted.  

“You do what you want, yeah?” Gus says, smiling. “Well, what you and Nicole want. Life is hard and all relationships are challenging sometimes, but from what you’ve said it sounds like you two are on a good path. All I want is for you to follow where that takes you, and not take a diversion because you feel you have to.”

Waverly feels heartened by Gus’ words, but it only takes a couple of hours in the bar for her to be reminded of why she had been so cagey about her relationship.

It had been a strange shift thus far.

The hum of chatter in the bar had felt different. People always had their heads pressed together as they set the world to rights or discussed the latest sports results, but there had been a slightly more suppressed atmosphere to the conversation tonight.

Separated by the bar as she poured drinks, Waverly could not quite pinpoint what exactly was awry. Even as she darted from table to table to collect glasses, it didn’t quite click. The quality of the conversation was odd, feeling almost like the buzz of a particularly evasive fly. It seemed to grow distant every time Waverly got near to its source.

Perhaps she had grown complacent in the wake of Gus and Curtis’ warm reaction, because Waverly truly does not make the connection for a while. It is not until Champ corners her beside an empty table that the realisation happens.

“What is it Champ?” Waverly says with a sigh, sick of his hints that he wants them to get back together. “I’m trying to work.”

“You said you didn’t meet anyone in Greece,” he says, eyes narrowed and face twisted into an ugly expression that Waverly had not seen in a long time.

“I actually said it wasn’t any of your business but -”

“The very least you could have done was told me when we broke up that it was because you’re a queer.”

The words hit Waverly like a slap in the face. There is no way Champ can know this. She casts her mind back to something, _anything_ , she could have done wrong. She had not even told Chrissy yet, and she had been careful what she put on social media. Gus and Curtis would not have told anyone, so there was no way Champ could know.

This couldn’t be happening.

Taking a breath and remaining remarkably calm, Waverly says,

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Champ grins and it is vicious and ugly. “It’s disgusting, what you’re doing. _Disgusting_.” 

“Look, whatever you think you know,” Waverly begins, not sure whether she is about to deny everything or simply deny Champ the conversation. There is only one reason why she would not tell her old friends about Nicole, and it is because she is too good for all of them, barring only Chrissy. Nicole is everything wonderful, and their relationship means so much to Waverly, who does not especially want to listen to others tearing it to shreds. Her peers are never going to accept her as _her_ , let alone adding her sexuality into the mix now. Waverly has known this for a long time. She no longer cares. But that does not mean that others have a right to an opinion about Nicole. 

“I _know_ I know it,” Champ corrects, still baring his teeth at her. 

Waverly sighs again. She is tired of this cat and mouse game that Champ has been trying to play with her.

“Either play your hand, or don’t. I have work to do.”

At this, Champ blinks and looks surprised. Perhaps he had expected to have Waverly on the run by now, but she knows that she will never give him the satisfaction.

It transpires that one of Champ’s group of friends had been dragged into the city last weekend on a shopping trip and had been stranded by the rain too. Waverly and Nicole had been seen sharing a parting kiss at the bus station and the news had travelled a few days later.

Deep down, Waverly had always known that this was where they had run the most risk of bumping into someone she knew. It had never changed her behaviour; she had never once thought about not kissing Nicole goodbye. She supposes she is lucky they were only spotted now, because she would have hated for Gus and Curtis to find out like this. By the sounds of it, the whole bar knew, and their muted conversations had been about Waverly herself.

For a split second, Waverly internally examines her own reaction. She thought she might have cared more than this. And of course she is angry; she is angry that someone had taken the choice to come out from her, because outing another person is a dirty and despicable thing to do. She is angry that everyone is talking. In this day and age, something like this is _not_ a talking point. But the people here have so little going on that they almost viscerally _need_ someone else’s life to be worthy of gossip, so much so that anything mundane will be made to seem scandalous. It has always been this way, and Waverly knows already that she will now be under a microscope for weeks, if not months. 

For his part, Champ looks infuriatingly self-satisfied. Waverly had always known that he never loved her, but this was further proof. He was looking at her like he had won something by spreading rumours about her and making her vulnerable. This was revenge, pure and simple, and now Champ looked as though he was waiting for her to admit defeat and tell him he had outsmarted her. But Champ would likely never outsmart anyone at all, and Waverly did not feel like she had lost anything.

“Well?” he asks when Waverly says nothing, only glares up at him in pure disgust. He says this like he is asking _well, what do you have to say for yourself?_

“Isn’t that what I should be asking you?” Waverly asks, impressed that she is still so calm. “Shouldn’t I be asking you why you and your friends care about my life so _very_ much that you’ve had to pass the details to everyone? Why did you feel the need to share something _I_ hadn’t shared? Have you really got so little going on that you needed this? You call me disgusting all you want, but I know who’s really repulsive here.”

She sees a flash of anger on Champ’s face. He had never been like this very often, but when they _really_ fought as a couple it had been thunderous. 

“You lied to me for years,” Champ bats back, ignoring Waverly’s questions. “You let me carry on wanting you now.”

“ _You_ let yourself do that,” Waverly corrects. “I told you it was over, I can’t account for how you deal with that. And okay, I didn’t tell you about this, but no one has the right to that information but me. And looking at how _sensitively_ and kindly you’ve handled this, can you really blame me? Did it ever occur to you that there was a reason no one else knew?” 

She is not about to start telling Champ how long it had taken her to understand herself, or how self-acceptance is a much longer, ongoing journey. Champ only needs to know that she had never trusted him with the information, and now she had been vindicated.

“Why even date me?”

“Honestly, I ask myself that every day.”

“That’s not what I - ”

“I know what you _mean_ , Champ,” Waverly says impatiently, running a hand through her hair and huffing yet another sigh. “You think this is about you but it’s not. I don’t owe you any explanations, but I will give you one for free because then you might finally leave me alone. I broke up with you because you are _you_ . A man who cheats persistently on his girlfriend, but thinks he has the right to outrage now that he has discovered she also dates women. I broke up with you because you lied constantly, because you are lazy and slovenly, and you never pulled your weight. I broke up with you because you took advantage of my family when they tried to help you find work, and because you would rather ‘borrow’ everything from me than try to reach for anything in life. I broke up with you because I wasn’t in love you. I broke up with you for about a hundred different reasons, but nowhere on that list is written ‘because you are a man’ because it isn’t a question of gender. And now I’m dating someone else, you have no right to an opinion. You especially don’t get to think that it somehow has _anything_ to do with you that I’m dating a woman now.”

For a moment, Champ simply stares at her. He opens his mouth to speak but manages only to look like a landed fish. Waverly cannot tell if he is shocked because she had given him his character, or because she had not ventured to deny her relationship. And perhaps Waverly had spoken a little cruelly, but she had bitten her tongue for years and this had finally been her undoing.

Champ had done all sorts of terrible things but this, allowing her to be outed to the town, felt like his way of lashing out because their relationship failed. She did not have to stand for that.

She is aware that some people at nearby tables might also have heard the conversation, but judging by the reaction of everyone in the bar, it wouldn’t hurt a few other people to hear the truth of the situation; that this is no one’s business but Waverly’s, and that their negative opinions were not welcome.

“Everyone will think I tu- ” Champ begins, evidently trying a different tack, but Waverly is done with the conversation. Whatever asinine comment Champ is about to make - even if people still believed a bad relationship could _turn_ anyone - he had never been significant enough in any way to make Waverly question her identity. She knew who she was irrespective of him. 

“I really couldn’t care less what people will think,” Waverly spits. “So if your intention was to embarrass me then you’ve really failed. I don’t want to have this conversation anymore. I don’t want to have _any_ conversations with you Champ.”

With that, she turns and leaves before he can engage her any further.

She catches Gus watching her approvingly from a few feet away, where she is pretending to clean a table and has no doubt been doing so for the duration of Waverly’s conversation. When they reconvene a moment or two later, Gus gives her a proud little smile.

“That’s my girl,” she says, patting Waverly on the back.

 

 

 

 

 

 

For the rest of the night, many of Shorty’s customers manage to surprise Waverly.

She hears a couple of low mutters, as well as one particularly fraught conversation between Gus and one of the older patrons. Waverly thinks she hears the words _‘...you and Curtis can’t possibly be entertaining that kind of thing…_ ’ but she does not linger for long enough to find out how succinctly Gus shut that person down. No matter Gus’ feelings on the whole thing, she would have stuck up for Waverly in the bar. Even when Wynonna had been lashing out and Gus herself had called her niece up on it, she had always defended the girls when others were openly critical. 

After discovering that Waverly has been outed, Gus tries to pull her to one side to give her an exit route, but Waverly does not want one.

“If I leave now,” she tells her aunt in a low murmur, “everyone will think I’m ashamed of something when I’m not.”

But with the exception of Champ and his friends - some of the girls from Waverly’s grade included - most people seem relatively unbothered. One or two even try to offer their support, and it is almost endearing because although their sentiments are good, their words are nonetheless clumsy and stilted. Stuff like this is never spoken about in Purgatory and, much like Gus, many people simply have no idea how to say what they mean. Probably, half of them don’t even _know_ what they mean. It is unlikely they have ever envisaged this situation before, especially with regards to Waverly. 

Mostly, people do not mention it at all, and it would seem that even the oldest town stalwarts will overlook certain things so long as Waverly will still serve them their beer and burgers.

She does not for a moment believe that this is tantamount to acceptance or tolerance (and she can well imagine the conversations that will take place behind closed doors later tonight), but no one outright tackles her over it for the rest of the night.

A few hours before the bar closes, Waverly gets a text from Chrissy. Evidently the gossip mill has now reached that far. As ever, her friend is unfailingly sweet. She goes around the houses trying to explain that she has found out something private about Waverly, and that she thought she should be honest, and that it hasn’t changed anything.

Waverly simply texts back: _I know what’s happened. Everybody here knows. It was one of Champ’s friends that did it._

_Oh my God!!!_ Chrissy sends back. _Waves are you okay???_

Waverly assures her that she is fine, that she never wanted people to find out like this but she is taking it better than she would have imagined.

After all, it sits badly in her stomach that someone had been cruel enough to do this to her, and it is not nice to think of others talking about her. She wonders what people _really_ think, but decides that she can do no more than wait to find out. If the microaggressions - or even not so micro ones - start, she will have to deal with them then. She is sure that Nicole and Wynonna will have some advice and, failing all else, she can simply catch a bus to the city and straight into Nicole’s arms. All the bad blood in Purgatory could not take that from her.

She can only assume that this is the real reason she has reacted so well.

All the same, Chrissy reassures her that she is fine about everything, and even says that she understands why Waverly would have kept something like that under wraps. She does not ask any questions, and that is precisely why Waverly tells Chrissy all about Nicole.

_It’ll be her first visit here the weekend after next,_ Waverly writes. _I’m not sure how she’ll find it. She’s going to be meeting Gus and Curtis and I know she’s a bit nervous. I don’t want to put too much on her this time, but either now or next time, maybe we could all go to the diner? I’ve told her all about you, I’d love it if you guys could meet_.

_I’d love that too Waves! Just tell me when,_ comes the response and it reminds Waverly that, when it comes down to it, she has always known how to surround herself with the right people. High school had been a blip, but the ones that mattered were still with her, and they all loved her now just the same. 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

The November sky is so dark as to be almost black, and the weather forecasts are threatening the first snow of the season when Nicole’s coach pulls up at the bus stop in Purgatory late on Friday night.

Waverly is bouncing from foot to foot as she waits, partly from the cold but mostly from excitement and, if she is honest, a fair smattering of nerves.

She can almost understand now why Nicole had been somewhat anxious. Waverly _knows_ rationally that her family will adore Nicole, but now that the day is upon them it is harder to keep the nerves entirely at bay. 

Nicole waves from the coach’s aisle as she shoulders her backpack and thanks the driver, descending the steps and throwing herself into a hug with Waverly as soon as she physically can.

“I can’t believe you’re here!” Waverly cries when they pull apart, and Nicole wears the same expression of joy and complete bewilderment.

“Neither can I!” Nicole replies in precisely the same tone, and they find that they cannot help but laugh at themselves.

“It’s freezing, let’s get to the car,” Waverly says, sliding a hand down Nicole’s arm until she can grip at Nicole’s palm and pull her towards the waiting truck.

The vehicle seems to entertain Nicole. In fact, everything seems to entertain her; she seems happy and full of joy.

“You have a truck,” she says as she climbs into the passenger seat. By then, it is the third time she has said it.

Waverly eyes her cautiously across the cab. She wonders what Nicole will think of Purgatory now that she is here. It is rural and remote and, of course, it is backward. In many ways, it is a living, breathing stereotype. Even Waverly, with her growing caution of the town and all her time spent away, only ever truly appreciates how it must all come across when seeing her home through the eyes of a stranger.

“Is that okay?” she asks, sounding far more nervous than intended.

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Nicole says, voice full of laughter. “Sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it - just that it fits the place perfectly.”

Waverly hums to show she has heard Nicole before pulling onto the road.

“This is your home,” Nicole says softly, dropping a palm to Waverly’s thigh and giving it a comforting squeeze. “It’s where you’re from. That’s what’s important to me. I wasn’t making fun - ”

“No, I know,” Waverly says quickly, cutting the conversation off. This is not how she wants to start Nicole’s visit. She is excited to see her and even more excited to introduce her to Gus and Curtis. There is no need for her to be so sensitive. “Sorry. It’s stupid because for months you’ve heard how much Wynonna hates this place, and you know how mixed my feelings are. So I can’t quite work out why I suddenly want you to like it so much.”

Softly, Nicole repeats, “it’s your home.”

It is her only answer, but Waverly supposes she is right. Waverly feels an ownership over the place, just as most people do for their hometowns. It is the kind of ownership that seems to say _you can’t be rude about this place. Only we can_. 

Rather than reply directly, Waverly tells Nicole to pick some music off Waverly’s phone and after a moment she settles on a soft, pop-folk style playlist that Waverly had put together for no other reason than that it reminded her of Nicole.

“How was your journey?” Waverly asks, settling back in her seat and feeling herself relax. Nicole must pick up on the body language because she does the same. Suddenly, they are them again.

“Okay,” Nicole says - not avoidant but just not in possession of anything to report. “It wasn’t too crowded on the bus, but it was almost dark before I even left the city so I didn’t get to see as much as I’d want.”

“Well, there’s nothing to see.”

“But it’s all so _open_. I like the space. It reminds me of going camping with my aunt and uncle. There must be so many places I could go climbing out here.” She glances to the window, as if she might be able to see a nearby rock face out in the darkness. 

Sporadic streetlights bathe parts of the road in an odd yellow glow that somehow manages to look eerie and strange. Aside from this and their own headlights, however, it is completely dark out here. The only other light sources are the faroff pinpricks of white from small towns in the distance, and the moon and stars above them. The roads can be treacherous, but the view of the heavens is beyond words.

Waverly catches Nicole looking skywards a few times and smiles to herself. The unmarred view was not always something you could describe to others. Somehow, it always puts everything else in life into perspective.

They make small talk for the rest of the journey. Nicole’s tutor had recovered from the illness that had seen classes cancelled two weeks earlier, so she had been studying all day. Always organised and prepared, Nicole had brought her overnight bag with her and made it to the bus station in time for the six o’clock route. At Waverly’s request, Nicole gives an update on her day and how her classes are going. She is frustratingly modest about the fact that she is shooting to the top of her class, and although Waverly cannot say she is surprised by this turn of events, she still feels that it needs to be celebrated.

There is no space for a beat of silence as Waverly drives, and eventually they arrive at the McCready homestead. Waverly already knows that it is unoccupied, and has passed that information to Nicole. Gus had been forced to work her usual shift at the bar, and was unspeakably disappointed not to be able to greet Nicole with a proper dinner upon her arrival. She had promised a breakfast _and_ a dinner tomorrow instead, which had made Waverly smile. The only person who _really_ cared about this was Gus herself.   

Perhaps in the interests of fairness (or perhaps to give Nicole some time to acclimatise) Curtis had made a trip to the bar too.  He was not known to be a big drinker, but he generally liked the ambiance. Neither her aunt nor her uncle had told Waverly whether their friends were being difficult about Waverly’s new relationship, but she fervently hopes that things will not change for her family and that Gus and Curtis can enjoy a peaceful evening out.

In the week since she had been outed, some things had become noticeably different for Waverly herself. Certain people are less giving with their smiles, and a few of the store owners seemed to drift away from their cash registers when Waverly walked in, leaving the teenaged part time workers to scan her items.

Of course, she would not be able to prove that this was all as a direct result of her being outed, but she is not stupid enough to believe it could be for any other reason.

To a degree, she almost wishes people would just up and say if they have a problem. It would, at least, be more expedient.

She has not, however, passed any of this information to Gus or Curtis. She wonders if they would tell her if anything was said tonight at the bar in her absence.

Either way, that is not the priority for tonight. Waverly’s sole focus is that Nicole is about to step into her childhood home. They can coax the embers in the hearth back to life and will have a crackling fire by the time they settle down on the couch to eat and watch movies.

“Well, this is it,” Waverly says as she parks up, back to feeling nervous as she carefully tries to gauge Nicole’s reaction to her new surroundings.

Through the misty windows Nicole looks to the house, then to the left as they face it, where she takes in the barn and the greenhouse. After a moment, she tracks back across to their right, where the silhouette of an old oak tree is just visible. Waverly’s treehouse is still nestled amongst its branches, but with the headlights off Nicole could not possibly see it.

Nicole takes her time before saying, “I love it Waverly.”

Waverly lets Nicole inside and she proceeds to trail after Waverly on the obligatory downstairs tour, casting her eyes around every room with a small, absent smile on her face. There is not really all that much to see; just the kitchen, living room, small utility room, and a dining room that is mostly just full of junk which might occasionally be cleared out for Christmas or special occasions.

Waverly had caught Gus eyeing the mess in the room earlier that week.

“Don’t you dare,” she had told her aunt playfully. “Nicole won’t want to feel like you’ve gone to all that effort. Besides, she’ll like how cosy the kitchen is.”

Waverly makes a mental note to tell her aunt that she has been vindicated, because Nicole uses precisely this word to describe the house when the tour comes to an end.

“It feels like a proper home,” she says, gazing appreciatively at all the country decor and handmade, thrifty touches. She lingers with a hand on the soft, brightly coloured blanket that Gus herself had put together out of a few balls of yarn and a crochet hook. She had taught Waverly, who was happy to say that she wasn’t half bad at the craft herself.

“I love this,” Nicole says of the blanket. “All the little details.”

“Tell my aunt,” Waverly says lightly. “Not only will she be very flattered but she’ll make you one for the apartment.”

“Oh,” Nicole says politely, “no I wouldn’t want her to go to any trouble.”

Coming up close and giving Nicole a playful poke in the side, Waverly wraps her arms around Nicole from behind, resting a cheek flat between Nicole’s shoulder blades.

“Are you going to be this formal with Gus and Curtis?” she jokes, laughing slightly.

“I don’t know,” Nicole protests, chuckling too. “Should I be?”

“Only  for more than five minutes if you want to be teased. There are no airs and graces out here. And trust me, anything Gus wants to do for you - especially if it involves food - say _yes_.” 

Secretly, Waverly resolves to tell Gus that Nicole complimented her handiwork, because it will generate a Christmas present idea that will save a lot of questioning from her aunt closer to the time.

Nicole laughs louder. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Regretfully, Waverly breaks the hug. “And speaking of food, I ordered pizza to be delivered by nine.”

“You get delivery out here?” Nicole asks, looking impressed when Waverly nods. As a joke, she adds, “another tick in the column of things I like!”

“So long as there’s pizza,” Waverly quips back, walking away with a mind to lighting the fire.

“Well, pizza and _you_ ,” Nicole corrects with a deliberately winning smile, grabbing lightly at Waverly’s wrist before she can step too far away. She pulls her in and lands a soft, heady kiss on Waverly’s lips. 

In the back of her mind somewhere, Waverly knows that she had intended to light the fire - and perhaps a few candles - and get things ready for the evening, but after long, lazy minutes stood kissing Nicole it is only the ring of the doorbell that reminds either of them where they are.

“Oh,” Waverly murmurs as they break apart, lips wet and tingling, “that’s the pizza already. I was meant to sort out the room and find a movie for us to watch.”

She sends Nicole to the door, finding her somewhat put out when she realises that Waverly has already paid online, so that she can quickly get a fire going. Gus had been sweet enough to clean the hearth and set up the fresh kindling and logs before work, so it is literally a case of convincing the sawdust and newspaper to light up.

Nicole is back in the room within a matter of seconds, styrofoam containers and pizza boxes stacked one on top of the other in her arms. Waverly had ordered enough food to feed a small group, but it had felt like the sort of day that warranted treats.

“I’m paranoid,” she announces in a light, playful tone when she comes back in.

“What’s up?” Waverly asks, not looking up from where she is crouched on the floor, blowing on a few small flames and trying to convince them to take hold on an enormous log.

“The kid with the pizza was looking at me funny. Felt like asking if I had my shirt on the wrong way round.”

_Oh_. 

“Yeah,” Waverly says right as the bark of the log lights up. She sits back on her heels, a hand on the cool grate to steady herself. “You might get some of that. Well, we both might.”

She turns around in time to see Nicole furrowing her brow. Putting aside the topic of conversation momentarily, it is almost funny to see Nicole waiting awkwardly in the doorway and holding the containers. She is still stood to attention, trying to be the polite houseguest.

With a frown, she asks, “even the delivery guy knows?”

Waverly stands and goes to take the food from Nicole.

“Baby, I said it was small.”

“I _know_ ,” Nicole says, pretending to be put out. “I just hadn’t realised you meant ‘so small even the takeout comes with homophobia on the side’ small.”

“If it was a young, blonde kid, he was probably just curious. But the line is thin, I get that.” Waverly pauses and sets the food down on the coffee table. “You’re not uncomfortable here, are you?”

“No,” Nicole says quickly, before balking slightly at the stern look on Waverly’s face. “ _Really_. It’s just kind of weird, knowing that everyone will know who I am but I won’t know them, especially after what you’ve been telling me.”

Of course, Waverly had been keeping Nicole posted since the events of the weekend before, and had hoped it would not put Nicole off visiting.

She knows that Nicole is made of stern stuff, but still Waverly is nervous.

At the time of breaking up with Champ, Waverly had thought Stephanie Jones’ comments had passed her by entirely.

_There’s not a lot of dudes here lining up to date an Earp_.

Steph had spat the name _Earp_ out of her mouth like mouldy fruit, and although Waverly had been angry at the time, she had thought she had paid the comment no mind in the grand scheme of things.

Now that she is dating Nicole, however, Waverly finds herself thinking about Earp Baggage a lot.

There is the MIA mother, the dead sister and father, the other sister who accidentally shot and killed said dead father. Nicole knows all of this, and she knows some of what had ostracised half the town from Ward Earp in the first place; his temper, his drinking, and most of all his fervent belief in the undead.

Waverly wonders how much weirdness is too much, and whether Nicole might eventually grow tired of it all.

Nicole must catch the tight, thoughtful look on Waverly’s face and understand immediately, because she puts a hand on Waverly’s arm.

“Hey, come on. Sorry, I didn’t mean to make it sound that bad. I don’t particularly care how anyone out there reacts to me. I’m here to see you and your family. And apparently to eat pizza, which is a pretty great bonus.”

This makes Waverly try for a smile and even if it does not quite sit properly there and then, by the time they have retrieved napkins, set up Curtis’ DVD player, and made the last-minute decision to change into their pyjamas, Waverly feels herself again.

Nicole shows her steadfast commitment by not complaining when Waverly makes her movie suggestion. Growing up, Waverly had been a cheerleader, dancer, and gymnast, and had been in arts and drama clubs. That sort of stuff was no longer a key passion, but she had always loved musicals or theatre. Upon finding out that Nicole had never even seen the true musical classics, Waverly had taken it upon herself to rectify this egregious error on her girlfriend’s part.

She suspects that Nicole does not especially enjoy musicals that much more now than before, but she can tell that the upbeat, campy tone of some of the cheesier movies builds the right mood for Nicole. Besides, Nicole never complains, but rather seems to enjoy seeing Waverly’s enthusiasm. Waverly supposes that if Nicole will put up with her insisting they at least _try_ watching the 2007 _Hairspray_ , then she will probably put up with Purgatory being, well, Purgatory.

They settle on the couch beneath a pile of Gus’ handmade blankets, and Nicole immediately draws close.

She compliments the pizza and wedges, and Waverly knows Nicole is something of a tough crowd in this department. She insists on clearing up when they are finished eating, and lets Waverly all but climb into her lap and cuddle close when the boxes have been put in the trash. She sighs contently when Waverly slips her hand under Nicole’s loose pyjama shirt and drags her fingers softly back and forth over firm plane of Nicole’s stomach.

She even laughs and plays along when Waverly starts singing and moving (as far as her position on the couch will allow) along with the final few numbers in the movie. She is still not a musicals person when the credits roll, but she probably has so complaints either, because Waverly had settled again and her hands are both at Nicole’s breasts and her tongue is hot and insistent in Nicole’s mouth.

By unspoken agreement, they break apart a little while later and immediately make moves to clear up the living room. The fire had long since burnt down and Waverly snuffs out the embers before they shut out the lights and Nicole stands and waits to be shown upstairs.

Waverly rolls her eyes playfully. “Still so polite.”

Even so, this does not stop either of them from making short work of an upstairs tour - purely to show Nicole where the other bathroom is should she need it - before shutting themselves away in Waverly’s bedroom, and doing a commendable job of forgetting that the town down the road exists at all.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Waverly wakes the next morning feeling oddly disorientated as she remembers that Nicole is in her bed. It is a delightfully strange feeling, waking up, sleep-hazy and bleary-eyed, to realise that Nicole is in her home.

Predictably, Nicole is already awake. Waverly looks across the pillows to find her laying flat on her stomach, left leg pressed deliberately up against Waverly’s, gazing up at the wall above them, on which Waverly displays a small collage of photographs.

Nicole must be able to see herself represented up there quite a few times (Waverly had added more obviously romantic photos just recently) but her attention mostly seems diverted by the older, curling photos of Waverly throughout the years. There are childhood photos of Waverly and her sisters, and blurry photos of pre-teen Waverly, taken on Chrissy’s old flip phone and printed out much later for the nostalgia.

“I suppose no trip to the family home is complete _without_ baby photos,” Waverly points out softly by way of a good morning greeting, and Nicole smiles without looking away from the pictures. 

“I like this one,” she says eventually, reaching up a long arm and just managing to tap her pointer finger to a photo of Waverly and Wynonna playing in the backyard of the old Earp homestead. Their mama had procured an old collapsible paddling pool from somewhere and the two of them had splashed about in it all summer vacation. Waverly must have been about four, because her mother upped and left not especially long after. Until recently, Waverly had always thought of it as the happiest summer of her life.

Even so, she remembers how Willa is present in few of the photos of that pool, because by then her father took her out daily, training her to hunt revenants. It was sad now to think how the childhood version of Waverly smiling down at them had not missed her eldest sister; life had never been kind on Willa and in turn she had never been kind to Waverly. It was hard not to blame her even if, as an adult, Waverly knew it wasn’t all Willa’s fault. It was harder still not to wonder how things would have gone for the three sisters in another life.

Recently, however, Waverly has started to tell herself that in another life she might not have met Nicole - Wynonna might not have fled Purgatory; might not have set up in Europe; might not have invited Waverly to stay in Greece - and it goes some way to easing the sting she sometimes feels when she looks at old photographs.

Still, she has always loved that one enough to display it, and she is glad Nicole likes it too.

Unperturbed by Waverly’s silence but still reading it perceptively enough, Nicole rolls onto her side and tucks some hair behind Waverly’s ear.

“You were a cute kid,” she announces playfully, very obviously changing the subject, “ _big surprise_.” 

Waverly pulls a face. “Hardly.”

“Hardly a surprise?” Nicole replies, leaning in for a kiss, “I agree.”

With a snort, Waverly shoves lightly at Nicole’s shoulder, but does nothing to resist the embrace.

When they break apart she says, “that was too cheesy.”

Face still close, Nicole pouts slightly.

“Ouch.”

“But I didn’t say I didn’t like it.”

“ _Better_ ,” Nicole purrs, dipping back down to capture Waverly’s lips again. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A long, unhurried spell of lazy, directionless making out is interrupted only when Waverly’s phone buzzes on the side table a few times in quick succession, drawing the two women back into the room.

Breaking away with a groan, Waverly reaches across Nicole and checks her messages.

She laughs when she sees a little line of texts from Gus.

“It’s my aunt,” she announces. “She wants to know if we want breakfast. Which I’m pretty sure is just code for ‘when are we meeting Nicole?’.”

Nicole laughs, but Waverly sees the way her expression shifts. “ _And_ suddenly I’m nervous again.” 

Waverly opens her mouth to tell Nicole not to worry, but then shuts it again. She tries to think how she would feel if she was being introduced to Nicole’s family. She had never really had that issue with Champ, because most of the families knew each other and, by extension, their kids. You grow up under the watchful eye of most of the town, so certain conventions, while observed, are usually substantially softened.

Waverly knows that her cold relationship with her parents still eats at Nicole sometimes. From Nicole’s account, so many of their problems would have been surmountable if they could only have met in the middle. But Nicole’s parents were _unconventional_ (her choice of words), always wandering in literal and, importantly, emotional contexts. Much like Waverly mourning a family life she probably would never have experienced even if no one had left, Nicole holds a candle for the relationship she wishes she could have had with her folks. 

Nicole knows, too, that the family she craves is the one Waverly already has with Gus and Curtis. That, Waverly thinks, is why Nicole had put so much pressure on this first introduction.

“Well, you know how I see it?” Waverly says, biting at her bottom lip and flashing a mischievous look.

“How?” Nicole asks cautiously, sensing Waverly’s mood and anticipating the flippancy to follow.

“You survived Wynonna. So I’m pretty sure Gus and Curtis are gonna be a breeze.”

Nicole blinks and considers this for a moment. “See, I know you’re making a joke but in all these past weeks I’d never actually thought of that.”

Waverly shrugs, the gesture awkward as she lays on her side. “I’m joking but it’s still true. Wynonna’s scary big sister act is pretty well-rehearsed but she really, really likes you, even if she won’t say it. Well, she won’t say it sober. I think Gus has similarly rehearsed all of this, so shall we go face it?”

“Of course,” Nicole says, and Waverly knows she would never have said otherwise.

So, Waverly tells her aunt to give them half an hour to shower and dress, and by the time she leads the way downstairs Waverly finds herself feeling almost shy. She can only hope her aunt and uncle do a good job of putting Nicole at ease. She can only hope that Nicole likes them.

They find Curtis stationed in his usual armchair in the living room as they pass by. He is flipping idly through a morning newspaper, but manages to lose interest immediately when he hears them approach.

Waverly gives Nicole what she hopes is an encouraging little look before making the introduction.

She might be nervous, but Nicole manages every convention perfectly.

She smiles and steps forward to shake Curtis’ hand before he can even hold it out for her. She even calls him sir, which Waverly knows will give him ideas above his station for days.

After a moment in which Nicole confirms that no, the bus journey wasn’t too bad at all, and yes thank you, she slept well, Gus calls out from the kitchen. The interjection is meant to sound spontaneous and genuine, but it convinces no one.

“Waverly? That you honey? Can you give me a hand in here?”

Gus’ delivery is terrible, but even had this not been the case then her lie is blatant; she has never once ceded control in that kitchen, much less accepted anyone else’s help or input for something more than peeling vegetables.

All the same, Waverly flashes Nicole an apologetic look and steps away. Sure enough, when she passes through the living room and into the adjoining kitchen, Gus has breakfast well in hand.

“Well?” she whispers when, for something to do, Waverly starts taking plates out of the cupboard.

“Well what?”

“How’s things so far?”

“Gus she’s seen the inside of our truck and our house. It’s fine. And it would be better if I didn’t know you’d done this deliberately.”

Gus pulls a face at her that seems to say _be reasonable_. Waverly privately feels that she should be one conveying that sentiment to her family, but does not voice this thought aloud. 

“Your uncle just wants his chance to make introductions. You know he’ll be working later and he doesn’t have much to say at the best of times. Just let him have five minutes to say hello.”

With a small sigh, Waverly says nothing more, deciding that Gus probably isn’t a million miles off having a fair point. As it is, Nicole is released a short while later, and wanders quietly into the kitchen. In the moment it takes Gus, who has her back to the archway as she makes coffee, to notice, Waverly manages to whisper a quick _sorry_ to Nicole.

“It’s fine,” Nicole says with a shake of her head.

“Did he _actually_ give you the ‘so, you’re dating my daughter’ talk?” 

“Kinda, yeah,” Nicole says, but it is clear that she is understating things.

“Shit, sorry,” Waverly says again, before asking, “it wasn’t too bad was it?”

“I don’t think so,” Nicole murmurs. “I think I passed but I don’t actually know.”

Waverly thinks that if she has been sent on her way so quickly then Nicole must have all but bowled Curtis over, but that will need to be a conversation for another time.

A rather similar process then follows with Gus, who dries her hand with a tea towel before shaking Nicole’s, and then proceeds to ask the same questions about Friday evening as Curtis had done.

Nicole answers patiently, and immediately puts herself into Gus’ good books by asking if she can help with breakfast. She follows up the refusal with just enough repetitions of ‘ _are you sure?’_ before finally conceding and sitting down at the table with a mug of coffee. 

“Waverly, get the milk,” Gus says, even as Waverly already has a hand on the fridge door. Then, turning to Nicole, Gus adds, “Waverly tells me you’re not like her.”

At this, Nicole throws a startled look at Waverly, who mouths _vegan_. Once understanding hits, the whole interaction makes Nicole smile.

“I’m not, no. But I’m trying to be a little better now that I’ve heard so much from Waverly about why it’s important.”  

This is news to Waverly, who finds herself throwing a goofy, affectionate little smile at Nicole. This deepens when Nicole eschews all other options and puts some almond milk into her coffee. It is such a small gesture, but it is a touching one.

Waverly helps Gus load far too much food onto the table - eggs, bacon, hash browns, pancakes - and has barely had time to offer Nicole a plate before Gus is insisting that Nicole help herself to as much as she wants.

“I don’t want you to be polite,” she says mock-sternly, but Waverly does not miss the way her aunt observes Nicole, with her calm and easygoing nature and her smile as bright as buttercups. “I made this food to be eaten.”

“Take it as an eating challenge,” Waverly advises sagely, protesting when Gus tosses a napkin at her. “What? I’m just encouraging her to eat your food.”

“It looks delicious,” Nicole says, before throwing Waverly a guilty look and proceeding to take a few small rashers of bacon. She makes as if to move onto to something else, then catches another mock-stern look from Gus. Sheepishly, she adds a few more rashers to her plate.

After a short while, Curtis joins them and the four make idle small talk about Nicole’s life in the city. This is followed by a discussion on what Waverly and Nicole might find to do over the next two days.

“This is the thing. There’s just not a lot to do when it gets cold. Sorry,” she adds to Nicole directly.

“Why sorry?” Nicole asks, genuinely nonplussed at the apology as she tries and fails to bat away Gus’ offerings of a second helping. “I’m happy to take a walk or drive around so I can see the place.”

“Won’t you be bored?” Waverly asks, searching Nicole’s face. There is only sincerity there when the other woman replies,

“Not at all, no. I’m excited to see what it’s like here.”

“Okay,” Waverly says, still somewhat unconvinced. “If you’re sure…”

Nicole simply nods, applying Waverly’s non-dairy spread onto a fresh slice of toast.

Seemingly taking the following lull in conversation as direction to wildly change the subject, Gus sets her fork down for a moment.

“What are your plans for Christmas Nicole?” she asks apropos of nothing, and to give Nicole her credit she manages to look as though the question is not entirely off piste.

“ _Gus_ ,” Waverly scalds, “that’s not even a month away yet!”

“What?” Gus protests. “It’s _barely_ more than a month now, and I need to put an order in for our turkey soon. I want to know if I’m buying for two or three.”

“Why? You’ll over-order either way,” Waverly teases, poking her tongue out.

Her aunt rolls her eyes.

“I never raised her to be so cheeky,” she tells Nicole directly.

“Oh I’m sure you didn’t,” Nicole says solemnly, but Waverly can see biting her cheek as she plays along.

“Don’t you side with her,” Waverly warns, and Nicole loses her battle against the smile she had been trying to hold back.

Gus, however, has always been able to give as good as she got. “Oh I’ll bet Nicole already knows how impertinent you can be, no point in denying it now.”

With a wicked glimmer in eye, Nicole says, “oh yes ma’am, I do.”

Quietly amused at Nicole’s formal tone, Waverly whacks her on the arm. “Hey! That’s foul play.”

“It’s the truth,” Nicole jokes back before returning to her food.

“Oh, you’ll fit in just fine here if you keep backing me up,” Gus says with a smug little smile at Waverly, who is too distracted by Nicole lighting up to care.

None of this yet feels entirely real.

After weeks of silence and secrecy, weeks of worrying and wondering what the future might bring, Waverly gets to enjoy the fact that Nicole is _here_. She is sitting at the same kitchen table Waverly has used almost every day since she was a child. She had slept in Waverly’s room and sat on the family couch. She is eating Gus’ food and making jokes. Curtis is smiling across the table at her like she is all he could have wanted for Waverly. Really, the only thing that is missing is Wynonna and, well, Waverly is working on it. She and Nicole are going to call her later today, and they have both hatched a plan to perhaps coax her back to Canada via Calgary.

The city is not Purgatory after all, as she and Nicole have learned the hard way. But after even just one meal, Waverly can see that Nicole is at ease with Gus and Curtis, and it makes Waverly’s heart soar to watch as they take to her just as quickly.

Nicole allows herself to be invited over for the holidays even though it is barely the second week of November. She says that she is excited to explore Purgatory, and indicates that she is already thinking ahead to the opportunities the finer weather of summer will eventually bring. Curtis offers to show her some of the more remote areas where she might be able to hike or camp or climb and Nicole looks delighted. Her reaction pleases Waverly’s uncle just as much, although you would have to know him well to pick up on this.

Sat quietly as she observes, Waverly wonders if Nicole will be back enough to spend time in the diner and the cafe and in Shorty’s. She knows the latter might be fraught, but has long harboured a happy image of Nicole sat at the bar with a drink and perhaps a book while Waverly works an early shift.

It is hard to say exactly what the future holds - whether it will be a life in Purgatory or the city, whether it will be easy or hard or, most likely, somewhere in between.

But as Waverly soaks in the sound of Nicole’s laughter as her girlfriend is genuinely amused by whatever silly dad-joke Gus is telling; as she sees the fond look on her aunt’s face; as she catches sight of an old photograph of herself and Wynonna tacked to the fridge, Waverly knows that _future_ has become synonymous with one thing: 

_Family_. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaand this fic is done! As is this little universe. This whole piece sort of just /happened/ - I never intended to follow up on Elevate, but people asked and my brain imagined (the amount of times I headcanon follow ups or deleted scenes to my own pieces, it's probably a bit embarrassing) and this was the result.
> 
> I hope you've enjoyed this attempt to tie the last fic together, and those who said they were left wanting more had that particular itch scratched.
> 
> I have 'Silver Linings' going on atm, an AU in which Wave is a vet and CJ is sick...what could possibly happen there?! In addition I have a couple of canon-adjacent oneshots to post once everything else is completed, and I'd like to work on a fill-in the canon fic for S1 because, somewhat controversially I believe, it's easily my favourite season by a country mile. 
> 
> I hope you've enjoyed what I've come up with so far, and I'd love it if you guys wanted to let me know with a comment, come talk to me on twitter @rositabustiiios, or checked out my ko-fi which can also be found on twitter.


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